The Empire
by Emedrielle
Summary: This story of doomed lovers takes place during the reign of Commudus. What happens when a beautiful slave woman, in love with a Christian, is the object of a Roman Centurion's affection?
1. Chapter 1

_"Alright, then, what will you bid me for this fine specimen of humanity?"_

_A large crowd was gathered in the Forum of Ancient Rome, passively surveying the public auction of yet a new crowd of miserable slaves. However, as they lifted their dull eyes to the stand, prepared to observe yet another fearful, work-worn waif, a collective gasp arose from the throats of the onlookers._

_Never before had a maiden so fair graced the hideous block of infamy in the Forum. It was clear to the throng at a glance that the young woman, who looked to be no older than sixteen summers, was Grecian-born. A mane of thick, undulating golden curls fell like a robe about her willowy, virginal form, which was covered only by a loose linen shift. Her dark-lashed eyes were the green of the Sea of Tiber, and her skin as fair as its sands. Her lips, now trembling in fear as she stood thus exposed to a multitude of aliens, were full, and of the soft redness that seemed to beg a man's imprint upon them. She was tall, and regal in her bearing, yet she swayed slightly as she was forced to stand. Her hands were bound before her with thick, course rope that cut deeply into her slender wrists. The tail of the rope fell nearly to her knees, and it was soaked partially with the blood from the young woman's wrists._

_The slave-driver looked about impatiently. "Come on then! Is she not lovely? What do I hear bid for her?" The crowd erupted into a series of cries, as men of all sizes and forms attempted to forge his way through the crowd, their denarii held in eager, outstretched hands. A grizzled ancient, garbed in a rich-looking toga, forced his way to the stand and cast a cunning glance at the auctioneer._

_"You expect us to bid for the maid…without seeing what she has to offer?" Shouts of acclamation and vicious laughter filled the Forum, as all present comprehended the meaning of the lecherous old man. The auctioneer smirked in agreement, and moved towards the young woman._

_Still she stood, lovelier, statelier, and stiller than a sculpture: until the man began to unfasten her garment. With one swift movement, she thrust her bound arms up and out, causing the rough end of the rope to swing out and lash the evil auctioneer across the face. With a cry of rage, the man covered his face with one hand and grasped the flailing rope with the other._

_"You whore!" he screamed, as he jerked the rope cruelly, causing the maiden to lose her footing and fall heavily upon the platform. As she could not break her fall with her hands, she twisted and landed painfully upon her slender shoulder. She did not cry out, but lay watching the man above her, knowing full well that some hideous punishment would be the price she paid for her attempt at modesty._

_"Show the lass who is master!" cried the crowd, and they laughed in delight as the slave-driver caught up a whip and brandished it above the maiden._

_"Stop! Stop this vile business at once!" All heads turned to see a young man, hitherto unnoticed by the teeming throng, edge his way forward. He was tall, with a fairer complexion than that of most of the Roman men, complemented by curling dark hair, partially bleached by the sun, which fell to his angular jaw. His tall body struck awe into the onlookers, for his great muscles filled even the bravest men present with jealousy and fear. His eyes were as blue as the heavens, and looked as if they could appear alternately gentle and fierce. They resembled the hue of the summer sky during a ferocious storm as he gazed furiously upon the slave-driver._

_"What right is it of yours to interfere?" growled the man, hideous in his fury as he lowered his whip._

_"The right of a potential buyer!" The young Roman thrust a bulging sack of jingling coins at the man. "I intend to purchase the maiden, and I wish her to be unspoiled." The man opened the sack of denarii, looked into it, and gazed with wonder upon the young man's face._

_"You care not that she is disobedient?" The deep blue eyes of the younger man flashed fire once more._

_"That, I think, is not your concern. I have given you more money than you shall ever see again for the girl. She is mine now, and I command you to release her!" The slave-driver did as he was bidden, though he cursed and spit as he released the girl from her bondage. He pushed her roughly towards her purchaser, who caught her in his arms as she fell._

_She looked up into his face then, and it seemed to the young woman that never had she seen such goodness mirrored in the countenance of man. He, in his turn, gazed upon her, and his heart seemed to melt within him as he drank in her astounding loveliness. He slipped his arm round her slender waist to support her, and together they left behind them the maiden's first glimpse of the brutality of Rome._

_The young man and maiden were not long in reaching his villa, a modest yet beautiful structure on the outskirts of Rome. As he entered the atrium of the house, he saw with pleasure that the girl on his arm was amazed by the beauty of her surroundings. He gently loosened his grasp from her waist, and smiled upon her._

_"I think that, as you have come to live in my home, we should know what to call one another." The woman opened her mouth to speak, but he gently laid his finger upon her lips. "I shall tell you who I am," he murmured, "but I will not allow you to tell me who you are until you have taken some refreshment. My name is Leander Maximinus. I am the son of an affluent gem merchant of Rome. I have followed in my father's trade, and am now a very wealthy man in my own right." He clapped his hands, and an elderly serving woman appeared. Although her face was as wrinkled as a well-worn garment, it was yet pleasing to behold as a result of the kindness which emanated from it. The girl looked upon her with joy, for it seemed to her at last that blessings were showered down upon her, in the place of misfortune. She turned to Leander._

_"How can I thank you?" Her voice, soft and thrilling, sweet and sensuous, seemed as rousing to his ears as a clear bell blown by the breeze on a summer's day. He nearly stretched out a hand to touch her golden hair…but stopped himself in time._

_"No thanks is needed. I wish only that you refresh yourself and take some rest." The girl delicately bent her form into a graceful curtsey, then left the room upon the arm of the old servant woman._

__

_"My name is Kalyca, Child. I was born in Greece, as were you, I presume?" When the damsel nodded in agreement, the old servant woman beamed an affable smile upon the younger, as she gently stroked the golden masses of her hair with an ivory-and-silver comb._

_"You are very kind, Kalyca," the girl replied. She allowed the old woman to aid her in undressing and sighed with rapture as she slid into a bath of hot, heavily scented water. Kalyca stood watching her as she bathed, noting the extreme delicacy of the figure before her._

_The maiden was exceedingly slender, almost alarmingly so, as a result of the voyage to Rome from her distant homeland. Her honey-toned hair drifted about her lovely face as she floated in the water, framing it as if a ray of light had fallen upon and illuminated the face of a priceless marble statue._

_When the maiden finished bathing, Kalyca dressed her artistically in a beautiful and ornate robe, the pale green hue of which set off her striking eyes and ivory-fair skin to perfection. The old women brushed the maiden's wet hair, but did not fasten it away from her face, allowing it to dry and stand naturally, letting the glorious curls have their way with it. The young woman spoke not at all as she was thus attended to, save only to thank Kalyca for her kind services on her behalf._

_At long last, the damsel was ready. Kalyca led her to Leander, noting with satisfaction the look of supreme wonder upon his face as beheld the glory of her refined beauty in the full light of day. He reclined upon a comfortable couch, an untouched goblet of wine before him, and he motioned for the girl to recline as well. Kalyca left them together then, for she sensed that the girl had much to tell her new master that she could not-would not-tell her._

_"Well," said Leander at last, "Are you rested?" She smiled at him._

_"Yes. I…I thank you with all of my heart. Such kindness…" Her emerald eyes dimmed with tears suddenly, and she dipped her beauteous head into her hands to try and hide them. With a rush of anger, Leander noted the marks the coarse ropes had made upon her white wrists._

_"Why do you weep?" he asked gently, after a moment. The girl breathed deeply to calm her torrential emotions, then forced herself to look up and meet his gaze._

_"You have told me who you are, Milord. I must now extend the same courtesy." She shifted slightly, and Leander noted to himself that she looked like the very essence of spring itself, with the fairness of her golden beauty emerging from the thin, form-enhancing green robe which she wore. "My name is Calliliana, which is Greek for…"_

_"Bright Beauty. It is two names in one, and never was a name more aptly chosen." Calliliana blushed._

_"I see that you know Greek as well as Latin, as do I. My mother, Lethia, was a beautiful Grecian noblewoman, who married a Roman soldier when she was scarcely more than a girl. She gave birth to me whilst he was away on a campaign…he never returned." The girl paused and placed a hand over her brow. "Although we were supremely happy together, Mother never abandoned the practice of rich living, even after all of the money that was left by my father had been exhausted. When she realized that she had fallen so far into debt…" A violent fit of shivering accosted Calliliana, and her voice fell so low that Leander had to strain to hear it._

_"I returned home one evening, and was surprised to not find her waiting for me. After looking unsuccessfully for her, I asked each and every servant in turn where she might be, but no one knew any better than did I. I ordered them to separate and begin searching the house, for by this time I was sorely alarmed. I searched the upstairs of the house…I went into her room; she was not there. I was about to turn away, when I noticed that the door to the balcony overlooking our fragrant gardens was half-open. I stepped outside and looked about me…she was not there either. I turned to go, but something made me look over the edge of the balcony." Calliliana paused again, and her eyes and face bespoke of the horror and the sadness she felt. "She had cast herself over the edge, Milord. She lay there on the ground, her beautiful body broken and battered cruelly by the pavement below. I opened my mouth to cry out; not a sound came. I was paralyzed with anguish."_

_By this time, Calliliana was weeping gently once more. Ever so gently, Leander reached out his hand to comfort her, and was pleased when she did not shrink away. She allowed him to caress her hand tenderly, yet it was still several moments before she could compose herself to speak further._

_"My mother slew herself as a result of her enormous debts, Milord. I was left alone in the world…and it was not long before those my mother owed came to see me for payment. I am but a young woman, Milord, only just sixteen; I know nothing of such matters." Calliliana clenched her teeth together. "I remember well the day when a great, hulking man came to the villa. I was exceptionally weary, and exceedingly heart-rent, and I barely listened to the man as he told me that he had a solution for me, a way out of debt. He offered me a glass of wine, which I took, not suspecting anything at all…when I awoke, I found myself bound upon a slave-vessel—I learned that I had been sold into slavery to pay off my mother's debts." The maiden fingered the soft material of her robe as she whispered, "I do not know what would have become of me if you had not purchased me, Milord. I owe you a debt of service so great…"_

_"You owe me nothing, Calliliana." Leander shifted slightly on his couch. "I know well the plight of beautiful slaves, and I could see in the eyes of the mob just what they would have made you become. I…" He stopped, mesmerized, as in one fluid motion, the maiden slipped from upon her couch and onto her knees before him. She took one of his hands gently in one of her fine, white ones and pressed her scarlet lips softly against it._

_"You have saved me, Milord, from a life of shame. For as long as I shall draw breath, I will be your slave." Leander started to draw his hand away._

_"Calliliana…" The girl shook her head._

_"Use me as you will, Milord, I shall not murmur a complaint against you. Every day of my life, I will remember what you have saved me from." Leander shook his head and stood._

_"I did not purchase you to be my slave. I do not believe in slavery—I have none." Calliliana remained on her knees, a look of incredulity spreading across her fair face._

_"No…no slaves, Milord? But Kalyca…"_

_"…Is a paid servant. I do not think it right or just to use the life and vitality of others to promote my own comfort. No, you shall find life in my household very different indeed." Calliliana rose slowly._

_"Then what am I to do here?" Leander walked to a window overlooking the gardens of his estate, and spoke to her without turning._

_"It is your own decision, really. You can choose to be a wage-earning servant, as is Kalyca. You can leave me at any time, if you will. You can find work is another household, you can pay rent for your time here-or you can simply live in my house until you decide what you wish to do." The young man turned to the girl, his handsome face and powerful physique framed by the late afternoon light which slanted through the latticed windows. "I purchased you out of pity for your plight, Calliliana, not for any evil desires on my part. I hope that you realize that…"_

_"I never thought that you did, Milord." Leander shook his head once more._

_"One request I would make of you-call me by my name. I am not your lord, and therefore should not be addressed as such."_

_"I will do as you ask…Leander." A bright flush colored the maiden's beautiful face, and it seemed to the young man as he watched her that he was observing an occurrence fairer than the budding of new-born rose. So lovely she was and so pure, Maximinus felt a tender affection for the maiden well up within his heart with a desire that nearly stifled him. He wished to reach out and take her into his arms…_

_He turned abruptly. "You must be weary, Calliliana. I will have Kalyca show you to your room." The girl thanked him with her eyes, and he could see for the first time just how truly fatigued she was. She leaned heavily upon the arm of the old servant woman, and the man could not help but long to have her lean against him with such trust as she bestowed upon the servant._

_As she left the room, she cast one last look at him over her green-clad shoulder. Leander Maximinus never forgot the appearance of her face as it was then. A slight breeze blew through the windows and lifted her damp hair slightly off of her temples. Her emerald eyes, thought weary, were alive with curiosity and thankfulness as she looked at him, her face half-hidden by a screen of golden hair. As their eyes met, a thrill of desire coursed through both of their bodies…though they knew not what the other wished._

_They knew not. They knew only what they themselves desired—and they trembled._

**hey everyone! this is my first fanfiction; a story in the back of my head for a while. Please tell me what you think (and please be nice lol)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the review Elizabeth! Hope that you all enjoy this next installment!**

_Maximinus did not see the young woman until the next morning, when she placed his breakfast before him on the table. Although he attempted to keep his eyes from roving over her delicious form, he could not help noticing that the soft blue of her robe enlivened her fair coloring so that she seemed to be as a nymph rising from the crest of an azure sea. Her long golden hair was delicately braided away from her face, and it resembled a rope with its curling thickness as it fell to her knees like a waterfall of bright sunlight. As she reached past him to place the bread by his plate, Calliliana caught him gazing upon her and she blushed hotly. "Is this all, Milord?" He reached for her hand and drew her to the side of the table._

_"I asked you to call me by my name, Calliliana. And no, this is not all." He rose and pulled out a chair for the girl, and gently forced her to take a seat. "I wish you to dine with me." The maiden cast her eyes upon the table and fidgeted with the cloth covering it._

_"If you wish, Mil—Leander." The young man watched her intently as she ate, noting how like a nervous nestling she was. She merely picked at the sumptuous food before her._

_"You are not hungry?" She started at his voice._

_"No…not really." Leander leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes soft as he contemplated her._

_"What can I do to make you smile again?" the question started from his lips as soon as it formed in his mind, and the girl looked at him, startled._

_"You have saved me from a life of utter misery. That is enough. But please," her voice broke, "Please, do not ask me to smile. I cannot as of yet."_

_"Fair enough." The young man knew that it made her extremely uncomfortable to have him watch her as she ate, so instead he stood and paced about the room. He was unaware, of course, that the sight of his strong body moving before her only made the girl more eager to escape—she knew not what the feelings were that swayed her mind and her heart. He is so handsome, she thought, so wonderfully handsome, and so noble! Leander turned and looked at her then, and she hastily lowered her eyes as a bright flush overspread her snowy face._

_"I…I am finished, Mil…Leander. Is there ought else that you wish this morn?" She rose quickly and glanced about her, attempting vainly to discern some work to do. Maximinus smiled in spite of himself at her obvious discomfiture._

_"No, Kalyca will take care of everything." He moved near to her slowly, as if afraid that she would startle and bolt like a wild hare, and laid a hand on her slender arm. "I do, however, wish you to walk with me. Will you give me that pleasure?" The maiden dipped her head in acquiescence._

_"Of course."_

_The gardens of Maximinus' home were renowned throughout Rome for their exquisite beauty. Flowers from all over the world had been brought to fill the gardens with their lush loveliness; creeping vines of flowering, verdant green covered the walls as a rich tapestry more beautiful than anything man could invent; and priceless statues of had been imported to fill the gardens with their strange exoticism. All of this, though great in quantity and matchless in quality, was lost upon Leander—it was nothing to the beauty of the maiden beside him. She, however, appeared nearly intoxicated with the splendor about her. Forgetting her shyness for the present, she darted from Leander's side and flitted from flower to flower in a state of near hysterical joy._

_"How beautiful!" she crooned, cradling a rose blossom, "How exquisite!" Before he could stop himself, Leander was at her side. He slipped his hand gently beneath hers, cradling bother her fingers and the rose at the same time._

_"Yes. It is lovely." He nestled his face in her hair, inhaling the pleasant scent of her still-damp tresses. "So are you, Calliliana. Matchlessly lovely." The damsel seemed to stop breathing, so great and so deep was the emotion that constrained her heart. Leander kept one hand on hers, and gently encircled her slender waist with his other. "Do you see this rose?" he murmured, his face now against her blushing cheek. Calliliana forced herself to breathe._

_"Yes."_ In…out…in…out…

_"It is the color of your cheeks when I speak to you." Leander let fall her hand, and in one fluid motion, reached out and plucked a creeping vine from above their heads. "This stem here is the color of your eyes. Lovely eyes they are, Calliliana, eyes the color of the sea on a clear day."_

In…out…in…out…

_"This flower is the color of your robe, the color of a sapphire gem." Leander dropped the vine and placed his other arm around the girl's waist, then slowly turned her to face him. "You are beautiful, My Darling." Calliliana gasped._

_"Milord," she murmured, tears gathering in her eyes, "You are so good. So noble. You saved me from a life of infamy and torment, and I owe you everything." She looked down, as if embarrassed. "Do I…do I truly please you?" The young man placed his hand beneath her chin and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze._

_"More than anyone. More than anything." Before he could contemplate his actions, Leander leaned forward and kissed her. The feel of her lips beneath his was a feeling of unmatchable beauty. He was afraid at first that she would pull away…but instead, she leaned more closely against him. Calliliana wound her slender fingers through the young man's hair, pulling his face closer to hers, and lost herself in the beauty of his kiss. The two did not know how long they stood thus, nor did they care in the least—it seemed as if a splendor grander than anything else contained in the garden…in the whole world…suffused them with it's glorious glow._

In…out…in…out…

**hey everyone! PLEASE review and tell me what you think of this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

2

The love between Leander Maximinus and the fair Calliliana grew in magnitude as the weeks progressed. Hardly was one without the other, and it became well-known that the gem merchant of Rome was intoxicated with his beautiful new slave girl. "He will soon tire of her," scoffed the old matrons, as they gossiped to one another in the marketplace, "Maximinus is a man after all. There are other women…"

"Did he not purchase her at the slave auction?"  
"Greek she is, and a beauty besides. A thousand _denarii_ he paid for her, I heard!"

"I heard that the young woman is one of those Christians…"

"Maximinus himself is so beneficent; he may adhere to the teachings of that faith as well…"

Leander merely smiled to himself when he heard such talk. He was quick to assure questioners that yes, Calliliana was a Greek he had purchased from an auctioneer, yes, she was as beautiful as they said, and no, he had not paid one thousand _denarii_ for her (he had, in fact, paid much more). Only one topic did he not discuss with the general public—the topic of his faith.

The rumors were indeed true. Leander Maximinus, wealthy gem merchant of Rome, was a follower of Christianity. His acts of philanthropy were well known to all who knew him and even those who had never met the young man knew of his generosity to all who needed it. He had been converted to Christianity in a most unlikely place—the Coliseum, that infamous palace of torment, had been the birthplace of his new life.

As a lad scarce come to manhood, Leander has accompanied some friends of his father's to see the "games"—one Christian after another meet their deaths in ways successively more horrific than the last. He had looked with disgust upon his fellow countrymen as they laughed and cheered the torture of these innocents; had silently wept in his heart as he watched them all bravely meet their fates. One in particular had inspired his pity and his respect.

A young man, no older than he, stood alone in the center of the arena surrounded only by the ghastly instruments by which he was to die. He looked up into the crowd, his fierce eyes fearlessly gazing as those who had come to watch him perish. As an executioner moved towards him, he held up a hand, and the crowd hushed.

"People of Rome," he began, his voice strong and unafraid, "I bear you no ill-will for that which you are about to do to me. I die following the example of One far greater than I, than you, than any other on this earth—One who has forgiven me my sins and will forgive yours."

"Enough!" cried the executioner. He lunged for the young man with his sword drawn, but the lad leapt artfully away.

"Listen!" he cried, desperately evading the strikes of the Roman, "Hearken to my words! The Christ, which you killed on a cross, has risen to new life! It is for Him I die, and proudly! I die with my sins forgiven—and so can you!" At just that moment, the executioner's blade struck home. The young man fell, surrounded by an ever widening pool of his own blood. As he sank towards the gore-soaked ground, Leander leant forward to catch whatever the young man might have to say. With eyes rolling in pain, it seemed to the wealthy young Roman that the dying man sought out one in the crowd. Maximinus followed his eyes until they came to rest on the face of a lovely young woman, a woman with skin as fair as her tresses were dark, and pitiful eyes brimming with many tears. "Do not weep for me…" the brave Christian murmured…then fell to the ground.

Perhaps there were more voices that did not cheer the death of the man than those two. But as Maximinus felt tears well in his own eyes, as he watched the young woman sink back into the arms of her friends and her slender body shake in a fit of weeping, it seemed that the earth shook with joy at the slaughter of an innocent. Overcome with emotion, the young Roman stood and attempted to force his way over to the girl, tried to find some way to ask forgiveness for his people and comfort her in her loss…but she was hastily escorted by her companions from the arena. As he helplessly watched her leave, he wondered in his heart, _Who is this who teaches men how to die?_

It was after this sight that Maximinus studied all he could of the teachings of Christ—and it was not long before the young man became a secret follower of Christianity. He told no one of his new faith—he still felt that he could not himself face such a dreadful death as the one the young man in the Coliseum had faced—but he felt a longing in his heart to share what he believed with those that he loved.

So it was that one night, not long after he had saved Calliliana from her dreadful fate, that he gathered his courage and spoke to her of his faith…


	4. Chapter 4

2

_She was standing in the gardens—that haven of beauty which had become her respite from life. Leander caught hold of her waist while she was turned from him, examining a budding rose, and gently kissed the back of her neck. She squealed in surprise, but allowed herself to relax in his arms. _

_"Dearest," he murmured, turning her to face him, "there is something I wish to speak to you of." The maiden lowered her eyes._

_"Have I displeased you?" Maximinus laughed at the absurdity of the thought._

_"Of course not. No, this is something entirely different." He rested his chin on the top of her densely flowing tresses and stared blankly ahead. "I do not know how to begin this, Love. Calliliana…what do you believe?" He heard the girl gasp, and felt her pull away slightly._

_"Why do you ask?" Leander noted that her pale face was flushed a deep crimson._

_"Are you afraid to tell me?" he countered softly, raising her chin so that their eyes met._

_"Y-yes."_

_"Why?" The young woman took a deep breath, and crossed her arms over her slender body._

_"Not long after the death of my mother, I began to question what I truly believed. I…I wondered deeply what had become of my mother after her death—where her spirit had gone." Calliliana did not meet Leander's eyes as she spoke, and he sensed that fear flowed through her veins in the place of blood. "I did not find answers from the religion of my people. One of my slaves, an old woman by the name of Lavina, knew of my searching. She was a Christian, and I had noted that she always seemed joyful, no matter what the circumstances of life. When her husband had perished, though I was only a child, I remember that this woman had not become hardened or bitter by her loss." A tear trembled on the edge of the young woman's lashes. "I wished to be like her with the loss of my mother." A warm sense of joy began to flood Leander._

_"Did this woman then teach you of her faith?" Calliliana nodded._

_"She did…and I believed her. I believed that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and that the cross of Rome could not destroy Him, nor does the tomb of the Arimathean hold His Body. I believe that He rose again…  
"You believe that?" Calliliana looked up in fear and surprise; emotion had made Leander's voice harsher by far than he had intended it to be._

_"Y-yes I do. Please," she whispered, tears flowing freely now, "Do not send me away. I know what Rome does to followers of the Way…I am not strong enough as of yet to face torment and death." Maximinus caught the girl to his breast in a crushing embrace._

_"Dearest," he murmured, nuzzling her hair, her neck, her shoulder, "Dearest. Calliliana, my Love, my heart is glad to hear you speak these words. I am a Christian myself." The maiden clung to the young man, her sobs shaking her body and his._

_"Now I know why you are so good—so kind. Why you saved me from my fate."_

_"I could do nothing else." Leander pulled away gently and looked at the girl before him, matchless in her beauty, radiant in her innocence. Taking her hand in his, he tenderly drew her to himself. "Calliliana, most Dear…I love you."_

_"And I you."_

_"You know that I have given you the options of leaving me to start life afresh, of working as a paid servant in my household, or of simply staying with me until your mind is made up. To these I add another option." His breath caught in his throat and his eyes filled with tears as he looked deep within her ocean eyes. "Calliliana…will you be my wife?" With a cry of joy, the young woman threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion and fervor in her body. Leander melted into her kiss, its sweetness filling his senses with such intoxication he felt as if he was soaring miles above the earth. Calliliana pulled away from him and placed a soft hand on either side of his face._

_"I will." she answered. And she smiled._


	5. Chapter 5

_"My wife," Leander murmured incredulously, as he gazed lovingly upon the delicate form of his new bride. He touched her cheek gently, then let fall his lips on her own. They stood thus, engrossed in one another, desiring one another, until the young man tenderly lifted her in his arms and placed her upon the bridal bed. "I love you," he murmured softly, as he gazed deep within her eyes. He had never noticed before now quite how beautiful her eyes were. They were still large and sapphire-emerald in color, though now they were wide and wet with joy, emotion, and shade of virgin fear. He could tell by the way she blushed that she was nervous before him, nervous as every virgin is on her first night with her husband…but to him, everything about her…her body…was more beautiful and more perfect than it had ever been. _

_Calliliana reached up and placed a soft kiss on his __cheek,__ then laid her head trustingly on his breast. "I love you as well," she answered, her bright eyes lowered. He smiled and tilted her chin to meet his gaze._

_"All beautiful you are, My Darling, there is no fault in thee." _

_It was not long before the news of the private nuptials between Leander and the Grecian slave-girl were noised abroad. All the village gossips thrived upon this fresh news like vultures to a carcass, each one attempting to outdo the other in the story-telling._

_"They say his parents disapprove of the girl…"_

_"Truly?__ I heard that it was her parents…"_

_"Do not be an idiot. Her parents are dead, and who on earth would disapprove of a man such as Leander Maximinus?" (At this one or two of the more romantic, younger woman would sigh with longing)_

_" She__ is young, they say, nearly ten years his junior…" (__some__ of the more jealous girls would then add),_

_"So like a child she must be…in everything!" _

_Maximinus and his new bride were blissfully untouched by the gossip, however. It was enough for both of them that they were happy in and with one another. Everything seemed at that time to be favoring the young couple—whether it was the jewel market of Rome, which was booming in business, or the fact that the two only seemed to grow deeper and deeper in love as time wore on. _

_"Darling," Calliliana announced one night at dinner, as she reclined in her husband's arms, "I have news for you." He kissed the tip of her nose._

_"Well?" She blushed deeply, and modestly lowered her eyes. _

_"I have not had my blood in nearly two months now. I…I am with child!" The look upon Leander's face surpassed that of the fairest dawn. His eyes filled with tears of joy, and his mouth twisted with emotion so that he could barely smile at his wife._

_"Come here," he growled affably, gathering her tightly into his arms._

_ As she lay within her husband's embrace, the young woman briefly reflected on how much joy was now in her life. A life of freedom and happiness with a man who she not only loved, who shared her forbidden faith…but now this as well—to be pregnant with his child._

**Oh God in Heaven, thank ****You**** for my many blessings**!

As she gazed into the storm-sky eyes of her husband, gazed upon his strong body, his manly beauty, and thought of his goodness to her and to all, another thought came to her.

**Oh Lord…Let me bear him a son!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone! Hope you like this installment…and I want some feedback. Ever since I've had this story in my mind, I've been planning for it to end sadly. Very tragic…interesting, but sad. Now, that's what I have planned but I don't want everyone to hate me lol…so please let me know if I should make some changes. Hope you all enjoy this installment!**

_Marcus Agrippa angrily wiped the streaming sweat from his dark brow, bitter thoughts crowding into his mind. "Who is Commodus to send me so far from my home…and now?" he thought wrathfully, as he shifted his travel pack to a more comfortable position. Agrippa had been the most feared centurion of the emperor's soldiers for many years now, though he was only just distancing himself from the glow of youth. Just now, now when he so intently wished to stay at his own villa…_

_News had come to the soldier that young Commodus was not as secure on his throne as he wished his subjects to believe. "That would mean, my friend," Senator Gracchus had informed him with a glint of evil greed in his hardened, bitter eyes, "that _you_ would be a sure candidate for the throne. Think of it: a brave and victorious soldier, known to the people for his many deeds of courage would be sure to sway the hearts of the populace!" Marcus had agreed wholeheartedly; he knew without a doubt what a strong…and feared…leader he would be. _

_However, Commodus had seen fit to send him away from the palace…and his villa…just as things were getting so intriguing. "I have work for you to do in the heart of Rome," he had told him, just the night before. "These Christians are becoming so numerous in the empire…I will admit it, I'm beginning to be a little frightened. Who knows what could happen if they turn against us? I need you, Agrippa, to keep your eyes on them. Arrest all that you find." The young man had laid his hand on the centurion's broad shoulder, more than just a glimmer of fear shining in his dark eyes. "You have my trust." Of course, Marcus had assured the emperor of his devotion to him and to his cause—outwardly, at least._

"_It is not FAIR!" Agrippa shouted madly, disregarding his age, his status, and the excessively curious stares that he received from those in the crowded forum as he walked by. "I _should_ become emperor," he muttered to himself, more quietly this time. _

_The heat of the summer day was beginning to be unbearable. The seasoned soldier had been so furious when news of his deportation had arrived; he had neglected to pack sufficient provisions. He had long ago exhausted his supply of water—and he could feel his body loudly crying out for some rest and nourishment. Agrippa growled to himself as he approached a young peasant woman carrying a basket of figs on her cloth-swathed head._

_"Where is a place I may find refreshment?" he snarled, pleased at the look of terror that clouded the face of the woman._

_"I…I do not know for sure. A fine place you would need…"_

_"That goes without saying, you stupid woman." Marcus inwardly smiled at the woman's brave attempt to stifle her tears._

_"The h-house of Leander M-Maximinus, the gem merchant, is kn-known throughout Rome as a p-place of g-great hospitality," she stammered, then, as an afterthought, "Sir." He smiled then, a smile of no great pleasantness…more like that of a beast contemplating it's prey._

_"Where can I find him?" The woman swallowed._

_"Not one mile, Sir. You will know his villa by the beautiful gardens." Marcus nodded abruptly._

_"Take me there."_

_Even Marcus could not help being favorably impressed with the beauty of Maximinus' villa when the terrified woman led him to the grounds. He casually flipped her a coin._

_"Be on your way." She scurried off, carefully clutching the piece of gold as if not believing such a treasure could come from such a beast of a man. "Like the dragon and his gold," Agrippa thought to himself, another shark-like smile crossing his lips. He strode to the door and knocked on it boldly._

_"I have come for shelter and nourishment," he called loudly, "My name is Agrippa—a soldier of Rome." The door opened slightly to reveal a small old woman, her eyes wide with surprise._

_"Is milord expecting you, Sir?" Kalyca asked hesitantly. Marcus narrowed his eyes at her hatefully._

_"No." He pushed past her rather roughly, strode into the villa, and looked around. Even he could not keep his eyes from widening at the beauty of his surroundings. He turned to the woman._

_"Your master must do very well for himself, Woman. Where is he?" Kalyca was opening her mouth to speak when Maximinus himself entered._

_"Right here. And you are…?"_

_"Marcus Agrippa, soldier of the empire." The centurion appraised the young man at a glance—very youthful to have done so very well for himself. Leander glanced at Agrippa in his own turn, not liking much that he saw. He, however, hid his distaste and walked towards the man with a large smile and offered his hand._

_"Welcome to my home. I hope that I may make you feel welcome here." He turned to Kalyca. "Please prepare supper now and immediately get the soldier something to drink." Agrippa felt himself stiffen at being called 'the soldier', and merely touched the hand offered him._

_"Much obliged," he forced out. Leander folded his hands behind his back._

_"Come with me, please." As the veteran followed the wealthy young man to his table, he could not help noticing that in addition to the attribute of his affluence, he was an uncommonly handsome individual as well. With his striking eyes and hair, and his muscles that looked as if he could lift boulders, even Agrippa found himself slightly intimidated by him. He found himself comparing his assets to those of Leander—while the former had the fresh beauty of youth and a good nature shone in his face, Agrippa had the seasoned look of one who had seen much turmoil, and had come through it victorious. His dark eyes were hard, his dark skin was lined, and his features were as sharp as those of a bird of prey. He was handsome, yes, but in a way that made women tremble with fear, not desire. _

_He was cruel._


	7. Chapter 7

_Agrippa reclined against the cushions placed around the long, low table, and slaked his thirst on the aromatic wine placed before him. "I must thank you for your generous hospitality, Maximinus," he said stiffly. "I was told that your villa was the best place for refreshment." Leander smiled at this._

_"I do try to make all feel welcome here." As Kalyca entered with a pitcher filled to brimming with more wine, Maximinus smiled at her. "Has your lady returned from the market yet?" The old woman nodded with an affectionate smile—clearly, Marcus thought, there existed great fondness between all in this family._

_"Yes, Sir, she has just come in."_

_"Will you please tell her that supper is ready?" The servant nodded and hastily left the room. Agrippa watched her leave vacantly, musing as to whom 'your lady' might be._

_"I did not know that the mother of this man dwelt with him," he thought to himself as he took another large sip of wine. Then, another thought occurred to him—one that made a sly smile steal over his face. "What if the woman is his sister?" He narrowly appraised Maximinus once more, who was oblivious to the centurion's close scrutiny. "What a beauty the sister of this man would be! If she lives with him, she must, of course, be unwed…possibly if I…" At that moments, his thoughts simply ceased forming—for there, in the doorway, stood Calliliana._

_Never had Marcus Agrippa beheld a woman of such surreal beauty as the one before him now. She was still the same young woman of the slave-auction in the Forum—though if happiness adds to one's loveliness, her beauty now surpassed what it had formerly been a thousandfold. Although her form was covered neck to foot in a long cloak of billowing pale blue, Agrippa imagined that the body beneath the fabric was as delightful as the face above. Her hair was knotted away from the front of her blushing face into what appeared to be many small coils, but the natural waves were allowed to flow freely down her back. She was blushing at the unexpected suddenness of finding a new visitor (and an important looking one at that) where she expected only her husband—though the rose-color of her face only enhanced the ocean-color of her eyes. Leander noticed her surprise and embarrassment and quickly walked to meet her._

_"Hello, my Calliliana," he smiled, kissing her lightly on the forehead. The girl threw her arms around his neck and gently nuzzled his neck. Agrippa himself grew slightly red and cleared his throat. _

_"Is this woman your sister?" he asked, his voice hoarse with hope. Leander and the girl laughed as he drew her to his cushion and reclined beside her._

_"Not at all. This, Agrippa," he said as he tenderly caressed the face of the young woman, "is my wife!" The maiden smiled and moved her arm to embrace her husband—as she did so, her cloak moved and Marcus noted that her stomach was well-swollen in an advanced stage of pregnancy._

_At that moment, rage and jealousy such as he had never known welled up in the breast of the centurion like a whirling typhoon—this man, this man who was still in the very bloom of his youth, had everything that Agrippa himself wished to have. And Maximinus' possession of this woman—this beautiful, graceful woman, was simply more than he could stand. He nearly choked on his wine._

_"My name is Calliliana, Sir," murmured the maiden, her voice gentle and low; her eyes downcast and hidden beneath their lashes. "You are welcome in our house." The centurion forced a smile._

_"My name is Marcus Agrippa, and I thank you for your hospitality, Lady." Try as he might, he could not keep his gaze from resting hungrily on the woman. The man wrenched his thoughts away from the damsel and turned to her husband. "How long have you two been wed?" Leander grinned impishly and playfully tugged on a loose strand of his wife's tumbling hair._

_"Just long enough for her to bear my child without scandal." Agrippa heard Calliliana gasp and watched as her face flushed an unusually deep shade of scarlet. He smiled at her embarrassment._

_"Nothing to be ashamed of, Milady, I assure you." She looked up then, directly into his eyes—and something within the hardened heart of the soldier melted at her look._

_"Oh…did I ever say that I was ashamed?" Calliliana looked then at her husband and tenderly touched his face. "That would indeed be a grave untruth." _

_For the remainder of the meal, the maiden reclined, quietly for the most part unless asked a question by her husband, and observed those around her. Although nothing the centurion did aroused her immediate discomfort…there was something about him that made her uneasy. Perhaps it was the way that he looked at her, possibly it was the anger in his eyes when they rested upon her beloved Leander…she knew not. The young wife only knew that her heart would be much more at rest once the Roman had moved along his way._


	8. Chapter 8

3

_"Where are you staying the night?" Leander asked him, as they stood after the meal. Agrippa appeared agitated at the question._

_"I do have a villa here awaiting me, but it will not be ready until the morrow." Leander clapped his hands, and Kalyca appeared once more. _

_"That settles it, Agrippa. You will stay with us until your lodgings are ready." To the servant woman he said, "Please set a room in order for this man. He will stay the night with us—make sure that he wants for nothing." Agrippa bent himself into a stiff bow—he could not remember how long it had been since he had done such for less that the emperor. Doing so almost forced the bile into his throat._

_"I thank you deeply for your kindness." _

_"What is wrong, my Love?" Leander asked his wife that night, as he settled her into bed. Her green eyes were troubled, and her brow was furrowed in thought._

_"I cannot say for sure. That man…that soldier…he troubles me, Leander." The young man looked at her in surprise._

_"I'll admit that I do not particularly _like_ the man, Calliliana, but he seems harmless enough." The young woman could not help laughing at this._

_"Harmless? A centurion?" A thought, sudden and horrifying, quickly came to her mind. The young woman grasped her husband's arms in earnest. "Leander…he is a soldier of the emperor. What if…oh, what if he will betray our faith?" The eyes of the young Roman jumped in his suddenly whitened face._

_"I will admit, I had not thought of that." Maximinus forced a smile on his lips to try and comfort his wife. "Do not worry, Love, you have nothing to fear while you are with me." He placed a light kiss on her forehead, then tenderly rubbed his hands along her swollen belly. "Sleep well, dearest." As he moved to go, Calliliana reached up and threw her arms around his neck once more._

_"Kiss me once, will you?" The man laughed at her and leaned down to place another kiss upon his wife—this time, with more force and greater precision._

_Although the room was lovely and the bed comfortable, Marcus Agrippa found himself unable to sleep that night. He tossed and turned upon his pillow, attempting vainly to descry what had disturbed—no, angered—him about Maximinus and his household. _

_His wife was lovely, that was true, and it was no secret the centurion's mind that the woman was everything he wished for himself. The villa was extraordinary, that was undeniable, while that of Agrippa was still lacking. The man smothered a cry of frustration against his pillow as he thought of all that the young man, young enough to be his child-brother, had accomplished where he had failed._

_"No sleep shall come this night," he murmured to himself. Marcus stood, pulled a thin robe over his sleep tunic, and rubbed his calloused hands across his face. He opened his door slowly and cautiously, so as not to wake anyone within the household, and looked down the hall. Now, which was the door? He had heard from the peasant woman about the famed beauty of Maximinus' gardens, and he thought that he might wish to lay eyes upon them himself. Perhaps that would cool the fever in his brain._

_Quietly, the trained soldier slipped down the stairs, opened the door silently, and crept out into the gardens. Even he, the centurion who had witnessed countless battles and had hardened his heart against nearly all but feminine beauty, could not restrain a slight gasp at the magnificence around him. The scent of the garden's numerous flowers was borne on the wind—the same wind which ruffled his bed-tousled hair like so many caressing fingers. Agrippa walked about, losing himself in the serenity of the grounds…until his eyes lighted on a female form near the gate._

_Though her back was turned to him, the wealth of golden hair that covered her told Agrippa that this must be no other than the wife of Maximinus. He felt hot desire flood over him, and his feet moved as if of their own accord towards her. His breath caught in her throat as he reached out a hand to lightly touch her shoulder. _

_"Oh!" she cried out in surprise, turning hastily to face him. There were roses of shock in her cheeks, an obvious terror in her eyes, and her whole body was rigid. For the first time in years, Marcus Agrippa of the army of Commodus felt a hot blush rise into his face. Who was he to go about startling innocent girls in the middle of the night? _

_"Forgive me, Lady. I only wished to discover why you are also sleepless this night." The woman smiled at him, although the fear did not quite leave her eyes._

_"Please, call me Calliliana." She hugged herself with her arms, and Agrippa noted the thin robe that covered her. The maiden's stomach seemed ready to burst then and there, so greatly was she with child. "The child gives me such pain at times—and it is worse by far when I lay down. I did not wish to wake my husband, he is so very weary…so I thought I would simply steal out here and walk until the pain left me." Wild thoughts raced through the mind of Agrippa as he stared at her lovely face, which cast a spell about his senses in the surreal moonlight. _

_"You are a soldier of Rome," he thought to himself, his body tensed and at the ready, "you could have her now, here. There would be no one who could find out until you are so far gone that…" Without realizing what he was doing, Agrippa struck himself a hearty blow to silence the thoughts. He saw Calliliana's emerald eyes go wide with astonishment._

_"What is wrong?" she asked, her voice quiet. He shook his head and stifled a groan._

_"Nothing." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her, shivering now in the cool night air. "You are cold, Calliliana. Shall we walk a bit?" She nodded, though Agrippa thought that he sensed she wished he would leave her to her peace. _

_The Greek maiden showed the Roman about the gardens, naming each of the flowers they came across, and informing him as to their meanings. As they walked the perimeter of the grounds, the centurion found himself focusing more and more on the fact that there were no statues from the religion of Rome littering the place, as there were in every other household or villa he had ever been within. "Come to think of it," he thought to himself, "there was no altar, either." He turned to the girl, stopped her in mid-sentence. "What religion do you and your husband follow?" Marcus was surprised to see a hot blush once more cover the maiden's face, and a look of sheer terror fill her eyes._

_"Why…why…we…" she stammered. "What can I do?" she thought to herself. "If I tell this man, he will most likely have myself and my husband imprisoned…perhaps killed! What of our child?" She stood there before him like a whipped child, her eyes downcast as her mind sought to weave an answer that would not be a falsehood, yet would not divulge the greatest and more precious secret of her family. _


	9. Chapter 9

_A thought came to her suddenly and she raised her eyes to meet those of her accuser._

_"We follow a religion different from those of most Romans, yet it is one that wishes no harm to the emperor or anyone within his realm."_

_"But…"_

_"Our religion is one of peace, Sir, one that desires harmony with all." There was that in the green eyes of the damsel, as the moon shone brightly upon them and the diamond-light of the stars were reflected within their boundless depths, that prevented the centurion from questioning her further. Calliliana observed this with relief and she gently placed her hand upon her stomach. "I do believe the pains have abated. Shall we…shall we go in?" _

_"Of course," stammered Agrippa, as he offered her his arm. He thought at first that she would not take it, but after the hesitation of a moment, she gently placed her small hand within the crook of his elbow. Marcus jumped slightly then, as he felt the extreme coolness of the young woman's hand upon his skin…it felt more to him like that of a corpse than of a living woman. At the same time, as he carefully walked beside her, the soldier of Rome nearly reeled with the pleasure of her nearness to him. _

_"Thank you for your kindness," the maiden said softly, once the two were within the villa. Agrippa shook his head._

_"Not at all." Before he cold restrain himself, he reached out a rough, calloused hand and lightly stroked her face. "Sleep well." Calliliana jumped at his touch, and a troubled light came into her face. She nodded hastily, dipped her head in a graceful bow, and hurried back to the room of her husband._

_Marcus wiped his hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away his thoughts. "She is so beautiful," he murmured quietly, "so innocent." A light, like more to the fires of hell than the beauty of the sun, dawned in his hawk-eyes. The toughened soldier suddenly strode about the interior of the villa with a purpose, his eyes seeking that which he had not seen—which he was not like to see. No. There were no Romanesque statues, no altars…nothing. Leander Maximinus and his wife were Christians—or, at least Agrippa suspected them as such. The woman he would not condemn, but the man…his eyes narrowed with hate as he thought of the woman's husband. Oh yes, the man would serve as his token to play the emperor's favor. _

_As he Agrippa made his way back to his chamber to collect his things, a thought came to him--"you do not know that this man is a Christian." Marcus dressed hurriedly, made his belongings into a traveling bundle, and surreptitiously left the villa. He cast a look back at the place, the hospitality of his guest forgotten._

_"Oh no, Maximinus," he whispered into the chill night air, "I do not know. But I suspect."_

_That was enough._

_"Morning, Precious." Leander tenderly woke his wife with a kiss on her pretty red lips. She opened her emerald eyes wide, sleep still shrouding them with a slightly hazy look. _

_"Morning." She wound her arms around his neck and clung to him tightly, her head nestled confidingly against his chest. The young man wrapped his arms around her in return, and with a shock of pleasure, he felt his child move within her._

_"I can feel him, my Darling," he whispered into her ear. She started to giggle, but it turned quickly into a moan._

_"I so wish the child would come, Leander. He pains me." She attempted to release her husband to place a hand on her belly, but he was too fast for her. Maximinus flipped her on her back and expertly placed his hands on her stomach, touching her with different strengths that would have been hard for her to do alone. The anguished groans of the young woman ceased in a matter of moments, and she thanked him with a kiss. Calliliana began to pull away to stare into the eyes of her husband, but he would have none of it. The young man held her in place with one hand, used the other to tenderly stroke her long hair, and kissed her as roughly as he dared._

_Their tender love was most rudely interrupted by the sound of knocking on the door below. Calliliana, who could never quite remember that she was the privileged wife of a wealthy young man and not a servant, started and attempted to get out of bed. He laughed at her and swatted her playfully._

_"Kalyca will get it, you silly little girl." Leander looked into her eyes longingly. "Stay with me."_

_He was leaning in to kiss her once more, when the door to their room was roughly flung wide. He turned on his side, prepared to chide the old servant woman for neglecting to knock—and was quite surprised to see, instead, five soldiers standing before him. Calliliana shrieked softly and clutched the bedclothes about her, and Leander stood. He was clad only in a thin linen tunic, but there was enough wrath in his face give him the dignity to inspire fear even in the mail-clad warriors._

_"What business do you here, at this hour? And in so rude a manner?" The tallest of the men stepped forward._

_"By order of the emperor Commodus, commander of the realm, you, Leander Maximinus, are under arrest." Leander's eyes were filled with anger now, a fury so great that the men before him quite visibly shrank back._

_"ON WHAT CHARGES?" he cried, his voice like thunder. At a sign from their commander, three of the soldiers stepped forward. One rammed the young man in the abdomen, causing him to double forward with pain, while the others bound his hands behind his back._

_"Stop it! Stop it!" Calliliana shrieked, darting forward. The men stopped then and stared at her, clad only in her thin nightdress—especially so, her beauty was much to be contemplated. Her face was flushed with emotion, and her eyes were bright with unshed tears. The commander looked at Maximinus', whose face was contorted with pain._

_"You have a pretty slave." _

_"_Wife_, you mean," Leander snarled. Calliliana stepped forward, her hand upon her stomach._

_"Please," she murmured, "please. You see that greatly am I with child…let my husband at least stay with me until the birth of our child…" The commander shook his hand._

_"No. I have my orders." The tears that filled the young woman's eyes fell freely now._

_"I beg of you!"_

_"No!" One of the men laughed evilly and moved suggestively towards her._

_"Unless, Commander, you would allow her to do us some favors…perhaps that would convince us."_

_Leander uttered a snarl of rage and fiercely fought against his bonds. _

_"Enough!" shouted the commander. With one swift move, he backhanded the young woman brutally across the face. She fell to the floor with a cry of anguish, trying desperately to prevent her stomach from being crushed in the fall. "As for you," he continued, eyeing the struggling Leander—he drew his sword and struck him a mighty blow with the flat. The man fell limply to the ground, and the soldiers laughed wickedly as they dragged him away._

_Kalyca did not find Calliliana until moments later, by which time she was lying gasping with the tremors of childbirth in a pool of her own blood._


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey all, sorry I haven't been updating! Thanks to all who review: you make the work worth it. the faster I get reviews, the fast I update!**

**This chapter contains a childbirth scene, not too graphic at all and some minor brutality. **

"_There, there, Child," the old servant woman crooned, attempting desperately to hide the fear in her voice from the trembling girl, "The birth of a babe is a natural thing. I have given birth to eight in my time…you will be alright!" Kalyca hastily fastened Calliliana's shaking hands into ropes she had tied to the bedposts, "to restrain you against the pain," she had explained— for despite her brave words; she knew that the anguish would be great. _

_As the young woman lay shaking upon the bed, her legs and lower body soaked in her red blood, the aged Greek eyed her narrowly. Would she make it? It was true, she herself had given birth to eight lusty babes—but she had never been as young or as small as was the maid before her! Calliliana was little more than a girl herself._

_A great cry rent the air as the little wife strained desperately against the ropes that bound her, her entire body heaving and shaking with the pain. Tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks and she inclined her head towards Kalyca._

_"Please…please…" she panted, her voice barely above a whisper, "Help me!" The older woman hastened to her side, gently smoothing back the damp tresses of her golden hair and bathing her perspiring face with a damp rag. Another birth-pang convulsed the young woman's body, and the ears of Kalyca rang with the deafening screams of the anguished girl. Kalyca fought the urge to bury her head in her hands. There was no time to send for a midwife—she would have to help the maiden herself. Could she do it?_

_"Spread your legs, Calliliana," she demanded, hoping that her voice sounded soothing. The girl stifled another whimper and did as she was told to the best of her faltering ability. Kalyca made a quick assessment of the situation, and a great anticipation was in her face. "It is right, Child…the babe is coming well!"_

_"What…what…do you mean?" Calliliana gasped, trying against the pain to keep her legs spread as she was told. The older woman rested a reassuring hand upon her bloody thigh._

_"Your babe is not a breach. I can see its head, Girl…push! Push!" _

_The young Greek was accustomed to taking orders—even in such a moment of pain, she did what she could to oblige. The anguish was like nothing she had ever known in her life…nor anything that she hoped she would have to know again. Ripping, rending…her body was tearing in half! When her husband would return to her, there would be nothing left as he knew it…her body was being slowly destroyed by this child of her Leander's seed. She felt the hot sweat pour down her face, mingle with the blood from her mouth from her bitten tongue, tasted its bitter gall, and shut her eyes against the agony. Through her hazy fog of pain, she could just hear her old companion crying aloud to her, shouting instructions at the top of her voice._

_"Once more, my Girl!" With one final push that she was sure would indeed destroy her mortal body for the rest of her life, and a cry as deafening as if the sky had split and thundered down a thousand storms…_

_"A boy! Calliliana, you have a son!" Kalyca held forth a child, or what appeared to be a child…so squirming, so covered in blood was it, that the maiden was not sure whether she had just given birth to man or monster. She sagged listlessly against the ropes, her legs collapsed, and dimly was she aware of the fact that Kalyca had left her side and was cleansing her little son. The old woman laid the child down gently in a cradle she had hurriedly lined with pillows and blankets, and attended to the wearied young mother. She tenderly washed her face, her hair, her body, and stopped the blood as best she could. She released the girl's wrists from the ropes, salved the chafing away and bandaged them—then, and only then, did she deliver the babe into the maiden's waiting arms._

_The young mother peered intently at the fruit of her womb, slowly aware that a love as she had never known before was filling her heart—for though the squirming infant in her arms did not look like much, he was the seed of her husband. The child was ugly, yes, ugly as most any newborn is at first. The girl laughed to herself as she kissed his soft little cheek—he looked nothing like either his father or mother at the moment—nor like any man. His skin was red and wrinkled like that of an old man, and tiny wisps of hair only enhanced his look of age. His mouth was pursed into a cry, and he squirmed in his mother's gentle arms._

_"Shhh," she soothed, tenderly caressing the infant, "I will never let anything happen to you!" A wonderful thing occurred then. Calliliana's little son looked up, straight into the ocean-depths of the eyes of his mother. The girl gasped; his eyes were as blue as those of her beloved husband. One of the child's little hands stole out from under his blanket, and as the maiden's breath caught in her throat, she felt him lay it upon her neck. _

_Calliliana let the tears fall then, not heeding where they fell upon her child, as she cuddled him close to her breast. "You are Leander, my son," she murmured, as she bared her breast for the child, "after the best and most noble man in the world."_

_Leander sat alone in his cell, his body weakened from the beating he had received and his mind tormented with anguish. What had become of Calliliana? He did not know the truth of course, perhaps the soldiers had merely meant to mock and to frighten him, but many had spoke of his wife in rude, intimate terms—for the first time in his life, the Christian had wished to kill a man._

_He cried out in rage, struggling against the chains that bound him against the wall. "Are you going mad?" he murmured to himself, as he sagged listlessly to the floor, "trying to escape _chains_?" _

_"Well, how do you find the accommodations?" Leander stood quickly, attempting to discern the owner of the voice—the oddly familiar voice— through the gloom of the dungeon. He felt his body tense, as if anticipating that danger would come. _

_"Why don't you answer me?" the voice was moving closer to Leander's right; the young man unintentionally made a fist. _

_"I cannot see you." Suddenly, out of the shadows emerged the one person whom Leander had most feared to see. His face could not have been filled with more dread had a specter emerged before him._

_Marcus Agrippa laughed at the look on his opponent's face; he was very much enjoying putting the wealthy little dog in his place. "Did not expect to see me again, did you?" An evil look of triumph filled the face of the centurion, and there was hell-fire in his black eyes. "How fares your lovely little wife?"_

_With a cry of rage, Leander snarled and struggled against his bonds with all the passion in his body. Agrippa laughed in enjoyment of the spectacle; he had always enjoyed observing hopeless ones resist their fate. He struck Maximinus a mighty blow on his jaw. _

_The young man's eyes went wide with surprise; he had never been struck since he was a small child. "You will not touch my wife, do you understand me?" he growled, through the blood that dripped down his chin and spewed from his mouth with every word he uttered. Agrippa's laughter only rose in volume._

_"And what will you do to protect her from where you are…Christian?" Leander's face was unmoving, but the trained soldier saw his eyes flicker in fear. Marcus grabbed the young man by the throat and forced his face to within inches of his own. "May your belief in the afterlife come true for you, Christian. Perhaps the thought of it will provide you some comfort…for you are now in hell!"_

_He struck Leander in the stomach with all the force he could muster, the same place where he had been brutally struck before, and the world went black for the young Roman._

_He slumped to the floor._


	11. Chapter 11

**New chapter everyone (lol I know, amazing!) **

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_"It has been three weeks, Kalyca," murmured Calliliana one morning, as she tenderly nursed the little Leander. "Three weeks. Why has my husband not returned?" Although she attempted to hide the terror in her voice from the old woman, her fear for Leander was evident in everything that she did. The unshed tears in the lovely green eyes of the beautiful young maiden, the slow, almost painful way that she dragged her slender young body about her daily tasks, the tremble of her full red lips—all spoke to Kalyca more than a thousand words. She gently massaged the slim shoulders of the maiden._

_"I know, Child, I know. I miss him as well." Little Leander stirred in his mother's arms, and his eyes met hers once more. The tears that had been threatening all day to spill fell then, bathing the child until he whimpered in discomfort. Kalyca shook her head sorrowfully, and gently took the babe. Calliliana covered her face with her hands, and gave vent to the bitter anguish which filled her soul with its poisonous gall._

_"What if they do not release him?" she wailed, rocking herself back and forth on her folded legs. "What if…what if Leander never sees his son?" Kalyca kissed the tip of the infant's nose and placed her arms around the shoulders of the weeping maiden._

_"God is good, My Girl. Though you may not see Him in all that is occurring…wait. Wait. He has a purpose in all of this." _

_"I will go to him." Calliliana rose, gently pushing aside the caressing arms of her comforter and standing beside her. Her cerulean eyes flashed emerald fire, her beauteous face was devoid of any color, with the exception of two bright flames that burned hotly in her cheeks, and her lips quivered. Kalyca stood back, frightened almost by the unnatural beauty of the determined girl before her._

_"Where…how…" The young wife took her hands._

_"The prisons of course, and I will go now."_

_"But the baby…" Calliliana moved her face so close to that of the old woman, she could feel the intensity of her hot breath upon her face._

_"Please…please say that you will watch him for me." Kalyca sighed and pulled away, her heart heavy within her._

_"Do you know what may happen to you, Girl? A woman as young and lovely as yourself, traveling among the heathen Romans…"_

_"Do not fear for me. I know how to take care of myself." Calliliana took down a long black scarf, and wove it about her until the splendor of her face and the glory of her bright hair were concealed beneath its shadowy masses. She then donned a cloak of the same ebony hue—even the old woman who had watched her transform herself had to admit that she never would have recognized her. the maiden crossed to the cradle, and tenderly stroked the face of her now sleeping babe. "And so I go," she whispered, as if to the very air itself. As she grasped a small loaf of bread and pouch of coins and concealed them in her vestments, she added, "do not wait for me. I shall return, most likely, well after nightfall." She heartily kissed the old woman on both cheeks and embraced her tightly once more. With a sudden energy she did know that she still possessed, Kalyca grasped the girl by the shoulders._

_"Do not trust too well in your status of "wife", Calliliana. You do not know the men of Rome as do I." Tears cascaded down her age-furrowed face, but the brightness of her eyes bespoke of the beauty she must once have possessed. "I was first purchased in Rome to be the plaything of a rich nobleman…he used he well, and there were others after him. I was old, Child, old and worn with years of pain and sorrow when your husband discovered me in the slave market once more and took pity upon me. You may thank God daily, Child, that one such as you, with all your beauty and grace, was not condemned to the same fate as was I."_

_"But I do thank God…" Kalyca pulled the maiden into a tight embrace, her tears wetting her to the skin. _

_"Remember this. You are but a slave girl, a lovely slave girl, to a criminal. You and your honor are nothing more to these Romans. You must be careful…" Calliliana gently pulled away from the woman._

_"I will be. Take good care of my son." With one last look at the little old woman, so spent with years of grief and heartache, with one final glimpse of her beloved son, the young woman turned and made her way towards the prisons of Rome._

_Without a word._

_Without a look._

_Without a sound._

_"So, how do you fare today?" Leander could barely open his eyes, so weary was he from so many sleepless nights as a result of the pain inflicted over and over again upon his stomach. The pain of every breath was like hell-fire to his tormented lungs. Marcus stifled a gurgle of mirth deep within his throat as he saw his former rival, curled into the fetal position upon the filthy floor, his arms hanging limply from his chains. "Now this," he thought to himself, "this is the ambrosia of revenge!"_

_"Not as badly as you might think," Maximinus gasped in reply, attempting to stifle the anguish that coursed through his body with every breath that he took. Agrippa laughed and kicked him once more in the stomach, watching with satisfaction the blood that spewed from his mouth and onto the floor. _

_"You cannot imagine how that thrills me." He stooped so that his face was on a level with the tormented man, and even his hardened heart could not help but admire the courage in the thundering blue eyes that met with his. "I have come for one purpose: to tell you that your fate has been decided." Fury filled the face of the young Roman._

_"Without a trial?" Marcus nodded, an evil shark-smile playing on his lips._

_"Criminals such as you need none. I made sure of that." He stood, and beckoned to a shadow that had been standing near the door. Raising his eyes, Leander saw with relief that the figure was that of a young boy, holding a pitcher of water and a thick cloth in his arms. A look of pure terror filled his face, and the youth continued glancing at Agrippa often as if to discern whether or not a beating was in store for him. "Adrian will attend to you. I wish to have you a little more presentable when you meet your end." To the shock and disappointment of the centurion, there were no fear in the eyes that boldly met his own._

_"And what is that to be?" Agrippa smirked and said a word that, while no outward signs showed in the face of the young man, turned the blood of his body to ice with fear. Marcus waited for a signal from the young man of his fear, waited for him to plead with him for mercy—but none of it came. He growled low in his throat, and the look upon the face of the young slave lad became positively dreadful to look upon._

_"Now Adrian!" he barked, storming on his heel. "We must have this man ready for tonight!"_


	12. Chapter 12

4

_"And who might you be?" Calliliana stood before the jailer, attempting to still the fearful quivering of her slender form. The man behind the large desk covered in papers was hardly taller than was she, but at least twice as large. His thick head was devoid of any hair, except for a few straggling, oily wisps that clung to his crown. His brown eyes were the color and clarity of mud, and his greasy smile revealed two rows of badly broken, rotted teeth. The smell of the man alone was enough to make the stomach of the girl churn; she began to fear greatly that she would vomit right there in front of him._

_"The wife of one of your prisoners, Sir. I have not seen my husband in three weeks and I wish to tell him…" the man dismissed her plea with a wave of his hand. _

_"Name of the prisoner?" he barked. The sound of his voice reminded the girl of the crack of a whip, and she trembled._

_"Leander Maximinus." The guard stopped looking through his ledger, and a grotesque, leering smile lit up his broad face. With a movement as fluid as rancid oil pouring from a jar, he stepped forward and grasped Calliliana by her shoulders. The girl attempted to cry out, but he clamped a firm hand, smelling of putrescence, over her mouth and nose._

_"It is said," he murmured, half to himself and half to the struggling woman, "that the wife of Maximinus is lovely indeed to behold." Without concern for her hair, the grotesque man ripped her shawl away from her face. Calliliana gasped in surprise and indignation, which was quickly supplanted by fear as she met the hungry look churning the mud-waters of the man's eyes. _

_"Let me go!" she cried, pushing against his mountainous chest with all of her strength. He laughed and clutched her tighter, so tightly that the maid felt she would swoon with the stench of his unwashed body._

_"It is better by far than I thought. Oh, you are lovely, you little slave-whore. Wife, you say? Ha! I doubt it. However, I will allow you to see your 'husband'—but not until you give me what I want!" He grinned at her mockingly and roughly tore his fingers through her luxuriant tresses. "Most others must give me gold to see their prisoners." He clenched his fists in her hair and moved his lips over it greedily. "Your gold suits me much better." Tears of fear and humiliation were coursing down the fiercely burning cheeks of the maiden. _

_"Please…please…let me go," she begged, her voice pitiful. Her tormentor merely laughed at her again, moving his mouth closer to hers…closer…closer…_

_"What is the meaning of this outrage?" Never since she had been rescued from the slave auction had the voice of a man been so welcome to the girl. She felt the jailer's hands slack and slip from her, and she turned with joy in her eyes to meet him who had saved her honor…only to come face to face with Marcus Agrippa. The very blood in her veins seemed to thick with cold and her eyes grew wide._

_"You…" she started, stepping back. Agrippa ignored her, strode towards the jailer, and dealt him a furious blow to the side of his head. _

_"How dare you molest this woman?" he barked, his voice full of murder. The man cowered on the floor beneath him, shaking his head and mumbling._

_"Forgive me, Commander, it will never happen again." Agrippa snorted._

_"See that it doesn't. However, as a little reminder…" his sword flashed from its sheath and bit the man neatly on his fat right cheek. The man shrieked as the blood ran down his face and slowly made a mark upon his filthy tunic. Agrippa squatted down until he was on eye level with the man. "Do I make myself clear?" _

_"Yes, Sir." _

_"Then I suggest you go. Another will be found to take your place." The man stood and scampered hastily from the room with one hand covering his face, a few drops of blood left on the floor the only sign that the man had ever been head of the jail. Then, and only then, did Agrippa turn towards the girl._

_"Why have you come here?" he asked. Calliliana noted that his voice was strained and rough, as if he wished to prevent her from seeing any emotion that his hard heart might be capable of holding. She decided that she might use this hidden emotion to coax out some sympathy for her husband._

_"Sir," she murmured, falling to her knees on the cold stone floor and ignoring the pain it inflicted upon her, "my husband is innocent. I know that; there is no better man under the sun! He has not been home in three weeks, Commander, and I have much to tell him."_

_"Such as?" Agrippa had crossed the room and now sat where the banished jailer had reclined. With his stern, rugged face and ebony eyes that burned her heart like coal in a fire, the young woman felt that she was being judged as she knelt thus before him._

_"Sir…he has a son!" She moved then, just enough for Agrippa to note that her figure, indeed, had returned to its former loveliness. He restrained a sigh as he contemplated it; she was beautiful beyond compare. With the restored splendor of her body added to the glory of her face…oh, how he wished to leap from his chair and take her right then, right there, as was his right! Suddenly, then, another thought occurred to him. A son, the girl had said? This man whom he loathed had one to carry on his name and to inherit his fortune. He stifled a growl low in his throat. This was more than he could bear!_

_"Stand up," he said to the maiden. She did so, a curious look on her lovely young face._

_"May I…may I go in now?"_

_"NO!" he thundered, turning away as if to leave. "NO YOU MAY NOT SEE HIM!" Calliliana shrank back slightly, but a fire was beginning to burn in her own eyes._

_"I have come all this way to be with him. I have left my child and my home and traveled many miles here, without escort, without even a horse to carry me. I am weak, Sir, weak indeed still from the birth of my child." She walked up to him then, and there was a light in her face so intense it frightened the trained soldier. He nearly trembled before her, before this small, frail little woman, before he stopped himself. Forcing her face to within a few inches from his, she whispered, "And you are mistaken. I will see him. I will see him! I will not leave until I see him!"_

_"Listen to me, Wench!" Marcus grasped the girl by the arm and forced her up against a wall. He, in turn, placed his face near to hers. "You may see him on one condition: that you never treat an officer of the army of Commodus like that again! Be thankful that I can be merciful to beautiful women, Girl. I could have taken anything from you for what you just said!" There was barely a flicker of fear in the girl's face._

_"Then take me to my husband!" Agrippa pulled away from her so fast, Calliliana fell to the ground. _

_"Stay here!" he commanded her, and disappeared into the black gloom of the hallway; painfully, she slowly drew herself up on her knees and gazed after him as he left. Only then, once she had ascertained that she was finally alone, did the maiden give vent to the bitter emotions that she was feeling. Her body shook and trembled violently; she clamped her jaws together tightly so as not to let her delicate teeth rattle against one another and break. Tears of humiliation, pain, and anger flowed freely down her fiery face as she attempted to forget the feel of the loathsome jail-warden's hands upon her. _

_"Oh God," she moaned, letting fall her face in her cold hands, "strengthen me now! After all this…I must see him. Please, please let me see him!" _

_The maiden allowed herself to weep for a few moments, then hastily dried her eyes. "Stop, you little idiot," she commanded harshly, as she wiped frantically at her face. "I must look lovely for him…greet him with a smile on my face to match the joy in my heart at seeing him again! No more tears, now." Shivering still from the extent of her tumultuous emotions, Calliliana curled up on the floor, focusing her tired eyes on a small window near the top of the wall. The afternoon sun shone brightly through the grating and fell upon her form as thus she lay, illumining her as the sun's rays on a curled flower. "Hurry, Leander," she whispered, her words melting against the stone floor. "My courage will not sustain me much longer."_

_"What have you done to so incite his wrath?" Leander let himself relax against the touch of the young slave boy's cool cloth on his face, on his body, sponging away the blood and filth from many days. _

_"I do not know, Adrian, other than that I follow Christ." Leander noted that Adrian's ebony eyes seemed to grow only wider and more surprised as he listened to the prisoner speak. _

_"But you must know the horror of what they are going to do to you…?"_

_"If I must endure this trial, I shall. And I shall hope to do it with grace." The boy stopped tending him then, and looked at him with concern in his face and doubt in his eyes._

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	13. Chapter 13

"_I admire your strength." Adrian twisted the liquid from the damp cloth onto the cold stone floor, realizing as he did so that water was wrung from his own eyes as well. He turned to the older man then, a question burning in his coal-black eyes. "Who is this Man," he murmured, his voice low, "Who teaches men how to die?"_

_Before he could be answered, the door to the fetid cell was flung open to reveal Marcus Agrippa, a sinister sneer on his lips. Leander met his glare bravely._

_"It is time, then?" The centurion struck him a mighty blow across the face._

_"I shall be the one to do the questioning, Vermin. On your feet." Adrian's eyes grew large within his milk-white face._

_"On…on his feet, Sir? But he can barely breathe…" Wordlessly Agrippa struck the lad so heartily he lost his balance and fell to the filthy floor, clutching his wounded face. He unfastened the chains that bound Leander to the wall, and roughly pulled him to his feet. _

_"Follow me." Maximinus knew better than to argue, although his heart ached within him as he cast a furtive glance at the poor boy Adrian; who was manfully attempting to choke his sobs of pain into oblivion. _

_With an exclamation of surprise, Calliliana started up from her slumber. The room was painted in the shadows cast by the setting sun; indeed, it was almost too dark to see anything at all. "Leander?" she whispered, feeling about her for her husband, "where am I? Why was I asleep on the flo…?" Then she remembered. She was not in her home, and her husband was certainly not with her…indeed, that was why she was here! Here in this foul hell-hole of a Roman dungeon languished the man she loved more than her life. That, in and of itself was why she was here. _

_Calliliana did not stand; she remained lying upon the floor in the fetal position, her emerald eyes casting wary glances about her. The sun was high when the centurion had left her to fetch her husband…and now night blanketed her with its pall of darkness. Where was he? Why had he not come?_

_At just that moment, she felt a slight reverberation in her body—the floor was undulating gently beneath her with the motion of footsteps! Calliliana struggled to force her breathing to be regular as she lifted her head and watched as the door to the room slowly squealed open…_

_And there he stood. The fading light of a fearful day cast its dying glow upon him, and it appeared to the maiden as thus he stood, that he was some great hero of old come to life once more. _

_He did not see her. He must not have seen her, or he would have rushed to take her in his arms at once, he would have caressed away her fears and covered her burning lips with a passion so urgent it would inspire fear to rival the desire in her heart and body. The girl watched as her husband took a step into the room, his summer-storm eyes flashing as they attempted to discern what lay in store for him there. _

_"Leander?" the young man heard his name, uttered almost fearfully in the stillness by the voice of a child. He looked about him frantically, wishing that the lighting in the room were so that he could see who called him—he could only just discern a small figure rising from the floor. He started towards it._

_"Who are you?" he asked gently. A little sob answered his query._

_"Though it is so dark, do you not know me?" A chill ran down Leander's spine as the voice, no longer the voice of a frightened child, but that of a most longed-for woman, once more breathed, "Leander."_

_With a stride that more closely resembled a leap, Maximinus darted forward and caught his wife in his arms; as Agrippa watched from behind the grating in the door, the two darkened forms melded as one. Leander was a man, a true man, in every sense of the word. Agrippa knew this well; who else would have been able to endure the torture of both body and mind with so fortuitous a grace as had he? As he listened to the labored breathing of the lovers, perhaps the seasoned soldier respected his rival more than ever for what he did next with no shame and no remorse._

_He wept._

_"My Darling," the maiden sobbed, as she clutched feverishly at her husband, as if afraid that which had taken him from her would snatch him away again, "oh, how I have missed you!" Maximinus gently pulled away from her, and placed a gentle kiss upon her tear stained face._

_"And I you." With one fluid motion, the young man swept the sobbing girl into his arms (forgetting his pain for the moment) and settled her in his lap on the floor. He gently kissed away the tears which poured from her lovely eyes, and ran his strong hands over her glorious hair. "How are you?" he questioned quietly, once her sobs had abated. The young woman cuddled into his broad chest, unaware of the great pain that caused him._

_"I…I miss you. All three of us miss you!" A sudden question filled Leander's body and mind._

_"Three…what do you mean _three?_" he asked. With a bright smile, Calliliana cast aside her cloak to reveal her figure, restored now to its former beauty—at the sight of it, her husband shook with desire._

_"I have honored you, my husband. I have given you a son!" For a moment, Leander forgot where they were, forgot who was watching, forgot what was about to happen to him. He grabbed the young woman around the waist tenderly, and pressed her against him. The bright bolts of pain that flashed before his eyes did nothing to dampen his happiness—even if he was to die, he had a son! A SON! The lifeblood of his body and that of his wife…his flesh…her flesh…a son! _

_"How proud I am of you!" he murmured against her hair, as his hands traveled slowly up her back to her neck. He tugged his fingers through the luxurious masses of her golden hair, twisted it away from her face, and gently nibbled her throat and earlobe. She sighed happily, and wound one slender arm around his neck, while she massaged the muscles of his stomach—or, she wished to. _

_With a sharp hiss of pain, the young man released her and started back, his hand moving to protectively cover his abdomen. Fear filled the maiden's eyes as she read the pain in his own._

_"Oh dear Lord, what have they done to you?" she cried, fury coloring her face. Leander set his jaw and attempted to smile; it would be of no use to infuriate her by speaking of his treatment._

_"It is just a simple wound, Darling. Nothing time will not heal." Wordlessly, Calliliana ripped away the thin, dirty cloth of her husband's tunic enough to expose his stomach. She uttered a little cry at what she saw, and bit her lips to still the bile forcing its way up her throat._

_The muscles of Leander's stomach were covered in hideous, green-black bruises so large it appeared as if all his flesh must appear the same. Some of the bloody wounds had festered, and a putrid slime was oozing from them. Calliliana wondered why she had not smelt it before. _

_"What have they DONE to you?" she wailed, leaping from his lap and kneeling before him. The young man covered her mouth with his large hand, his eyes darting frantically about the room._

_"Hush, Little One. Agrippa is watching everything…be careful what you say. He may hear you!"_

_"Then let him hear me!" the girl was furious past all reason now—furious enough to commit a folly as grave as death. "Let him hear what a weak, cowardly, sniveling little DOG he is, to beat an innocent prisoner who cannot DEFEND himself! Let him hear that I think nothing of the woman who bore him, who did not take the time to teach him what a real man is. Let him hear me when I say that I see nothing of MANHOOD about him. NOTHING at all. LET HIM HEAR ME!"_

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	14. Chapter 14

3

"_Be QUIET!" Leander was past all reason now himself, so mad was he with fear for the survival of his family. He covered his wife's mouth with one hand, and drew her face to meet his with the other. "Listen to me. You do not know the terrors this man is capable of as I do!" The young man gently removed his hand from Calliliana's mouth, and placed one finger on her soft, red lips. "Think of how what you say might affect other whom you love…" Stark terror filled the maiden's sea-green eyes._

_"Will he punish you for what I have said?"_

_"Not just me, Little One. Think of our son…" Calliliana's eyes jumped in her ever-whitening face._

_"Oh forgive me, forgive me! I did not think…" Leander sighed and drew his wife into his arms._

_"I know. Calliana, you cannot be too careful around this man—he is iniquity in human flesh. It was Marcus who did this to me…" he paused as he felt Calliliana's body tense in his arms. "Be still. Remember that our Lord forgave those who were nailing Him to a cross."_

_"I wish I could be so strong." The young woman was weeping now, her hot tears bathing her husband's hideous wound with their healing waters. "I hate him, Leander. I hate him…and I fear him."_

_"I struggle to forgive him myself, Love. It will come in time and with the grace of God." Calliliana snuffled softly and gripped her husband's arms more tightly, then slowly drew herself up to look into the eyes of him who she loved past all reason and sense._

_"When will you come home to me, my Love? When will you become the father of our son?" It was then, as the pleading words of his wide-eyed wife smote his ears, that the dreadful doom he was about to face cast its dark shadow once more over the heart and mind of the young man. He attempted to still the beating of his heart as he clutched his wife tightly to him._

_"Calliliana, my Dearest, we have never kept anything from one another, have we?" She looked at him quizzically. _

_"Why do you ask?"_

_"Answer me." She shook her head slowly. "Do you wish me to start now? Should I tell you that I will be home tomorrow?" The maiden cast a wondering look upon him._

_"I wish you to tell me the truth." Leander held her from him, until he could look her full in the eyes._

_"You must be strong if you wish to hear that which I am about to tell you—if you wish to hear the truth."_

_"I will be strong." Leander sighed and passed a hand over his brow. _

_"Calliliana…my dearest, most darling and beloved wife…I shall not be returning home to you." The girl's lips began to quiver._

_"Leander…" he put his finger over her lips once more._

_"Let me finish. I have a suspicion that Marcus Agrippa has been sent by the emperor to uncover Christians and condemn them as traitors to the empire. Calliliana, you surely must know what the penalty for our faith is." Tears fell now from the maiden's downcast eyes as she nodded slowly, almost dumbly, as the reality of what her husband was saying reached the recesses of her shattered mind._

_"You are to die then?" Though she could not see him as he looked down upon her, tears were beginning to form in Leander's eyes as well._

_"Yes."_

_"When?"_

_"I do not know." Calliliana pushed her fist into her mouth to dull the sound of her sobbing; she had promised him she would be strong and strong she would be though it rent her heart and her mind in two!_

_"Wha…what is it t-to b-be?" she stuttered through her tears. Leander tightened his hold upon her to such a degree she nearly cried out in pain._

_"That I will not tell you. You have enough pain in your heart now, Dearest, I will not give you more."_

_In the ever-deepening gloom about them, the young man was finding it harder and harder to gaze upon the great beauty of his wife—"perhaps for the last time" he though to himself, with a deep sense of longing and sadness. He could feel, however, when she lifted her head to attempt to discern his eyes through the shadows, and he felt her slender arms wind themselves about his neck._

"_Never, never say that you have brought me pain. You it was who saved me…saved me, Leander…from a life of torment of the most hellish kind. You, my most beloved husband, have only ever brought me joy—the testament of this lies in the fruit of our bodies—in our son. Our little Leander." A thrill of pleasure filled his entire body as he felt her breath upon his face. "I pray daily that he may grow to be even half the man that his father is…"_

_Calliliana's lips found those of her husband. As she tightened her nearly feverish grip upon his neck, she drank in the beauty of his kiss and the shock of desire that smote every sense of her body; she quivered with the longing she felt. She felt his arms tighten about her waist as he tipped her slightly backwards, searching her mouth with his kiss. She felt his tears fall upon her face, that sweet rain which was water to her heart and nourishment to her soul, sensed them mingle with her own and create paths of warm dew that fell down her soft skin, felt his hands slowly traverse the beautiful curves of her waist and her hips…_

_The door to the poor visitation room squealed open loudly, causing the pair of lovers to jump in surprise. Agrippa strode into the room, a scowl upon his stern face. He had heard everything that had gone on, everything that the ungrateful little wench had said…oh, and how he would make her pay…_

"_I have been more than fair, Woman. You have had time to say your farewells—on your feet." He cruelly grabbed his wounded rival by his hair and hauled him to his feet, ignoring the shrieks of protest by the young woman._

"_He is innocent, surely you must know that! He has done nothing wrong!" Agrippa shoved Maximinus before him toward the cells._

_"Are you a soldier of Rome?" The maiden looked at him, confused._

_"Of course not."_

_"Do you know the will of emperor?"_

_"I do not." The centurion turned to face her then, pure hatred flecking the hell-fires of his eyes._

_"Then do not presume to tell me who is guilty and who is innocent." The damsel attempted to step between the man and her husband, but Agrippa pushed her back firmly. "Any more efforts on your part will only wound your husband more greatly."_


	15. Chapter 15

3

_The maiden forced herself to become still—her eyes alone spoke pitifully of the pain that she endured. _

_"Yes, Commander. I shall do as you say." Calliliana cast one last longing glance upon her husband…her heart seemed to fail and die within her as she realized that it was to be her last. "Farewell, my Dearest. May God give you strength for the trials which you are about to endure." As she saw the tears flow freely down the set face of her husband, his face was completely obscured from her vision by her own tears._

_"Farewell, my Love. Stay strong, keep to the faith, and remember this: when we meet again, it will be a place where there ARE no more tears, and no more sorrow to rend our hearts. Remember this, Dearest, when you think of me." As he sensed Agrippa steel his body behind him to push him onward, Leander looked straight into the eyes of his wife and whispered "remember me." _

_"Enough farewells. Adrian!" Marcus shouted, his call hastening a frightened-looking lad with a painful-looking red welt upon his cheek from the shadows._

_"Yes, Sir?"_

_"Take this man back to his cell." Agrippa looked straight into the eyes of his rival. "I will see the woman out." Maximinus realized at this point that it was useless to argue—for what could he do? If he commanded Agrippa to leave his wife alone, he would most certainly do the opposite just to spite him. With one last look of longing and desire, and a gaze filled with such pain in threatened to shred the heart of his young wife, the strong young man allowed himself to be led from the room._

_Calliliana heeded not the presence of the centurion; once her eyes could no longer see her husband in the gloom, she fell to the floor, weeping bitterly. Agrippa stood over her, an evil smile flickering about his hardened mouth—he lived for moments such as these! _

_"Come," he said, attempting vainly to flavor his poisonous speech with honey, "I will see you out." Realizing that resistance of any kind of futile and might only prolong the suffering of her husband, Calliliana allowed the centurion to haul her to her feet and lead her firmly from the room. "How much did the prisoner tell you of his torment?" The young woman stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the soldier with frightened doe-eyes._

_"Torment…? He said nothing of torment to come. Only that he was to be put to death." Agrippa smiled._

_"Ah. He wished to keep the painful truth from your pretty little head, I see. Shall I enlighten you myself?" Calliliana bit her lip; she could tell that her tormentor was enjoying this._

_"If you please."_

_"He is to be put to death, Wench—death on a cross." The maiden's eyes went wide with horror, and they burned within her alabaster-white face with an almost unearthly fire._

_"Oh spare him, spare him!" she moaned, falling to her knees before him. Thinking not of what she did, she hastily clutched one of Marcus' hands and kissed it fervently. The feel of her lips upon his flesh only steeled the cruel man of Rome for what he was about to say next._

_"What reason do I have for sparing his life?"_

_"Because he is an innocent citizen of Rome, who has unjustly been imprisoned without a trial!" Agrippa laughed._

_"Citizen of Rome? I am Rome, my girl. Do not purposely attempt to thwart me with your knowledge of Roman law—I guarantee you, you will fail." As he felt her hot tears splash upon his hand and fall to his sandaled feet, he leaned down close to her face. He slowly, almost gently, moved a dense lock of her flowing golden tresses from her ear and whispered, "However, there is a way that you might be able to save him, and one way only." Calliliana shuddered at the feel of his breath upon her body and the very nearness of he who she loathed._

_"Then tell me what it is so I might do it!" Agrippa stood over her once more, a leering grin now lighting his whole face— the conquering solder within him was awakened once more. This was it. The mouse was caught in the trap; the victory was his, he had won!_

_"I will have a small dinner party tonight at my house. Consider yourself invited—there I will tell you what I require as payment for the service I shall do you." Calliliana shuddered._

_"What time must I come, Sir? I must return home and get ready…"_

_"No need. Everything you require is ready and awaiting you at my villa." The young woman grated her teeth._

_"You are all kindness and generosity." Agrippa bowed mockingly. _

_"Much obliged. Wait here; I will send for one of my servants to conduct you to my villa." He turned his back upon the shuddering young woman and strode purposely from the room—he would have his fill of revenge upon his rival tonight!_

_"Is there anything that I can do to help you?" Leander smiled weakly at the young Adrian._

_"You kindness is all that you can do now, Lad. I thank you for it." The lad's chin jumped and quivered as he struggled not to weep—here this man, who had in but a few hours time become a hero to him, was about to be executed in a way so hideous…_

_"May I at least offer you a glass of wine? I know where my master keeps it—it is tradition here to give the condemned one last drink." Leander passed his hand over his face and sighed._

_"I should like that, Adrian." The lad smiled nervously and scurried from the room. Maximinus slowly eased himself to a sitting position on the floor, grating his teeth in response to the sharp pain that burned through his abdomen, and finally leaned his head against the wall. Thoughts burned through his brain with the ferocity of a scorching wind: he had a son! A son, the flesh of his wife…his wife…how beautiful she was…how desirable in every way…the way she looked at him, the way she felt in his arms…how like a child she was, yet like a woman when it mattered most…_

_The cell door squealed open and Adrian shuffled in, bearing a chalice full of wine as a last gift to the man he was only just beginning to admire. "It is not much," he said, placing it in front of Leander's face, "but it is all I can do."_

_"It is enough, Boy." Leander stared down into the cup, his vision obscuring all but the drink in front of him. As his eyes gazed upon the slightly swirling red liquid, it seemed to him that he gazed upon a churning sea of blood._

_His blood._


	16. Chapter 16

"_You look lovely, Domina." Calliliana gazed quizzically upon her reflection in a tall glass mirror, and noticed as a deep red blush began to overspread her marble-pale face. _

_She was garbed in a tight-fitting deep red stola, the hue of which set off her coloring to absolute perfection: even she would admit that she had never looked fairer. The dress was made to artfully reveal parts of her body she would have rather left covered: her milk-white arms, neck, and one of her fair shoulders peeked from the red cloth like to a white bud encircled by scarlet petals. Her golden hair curled winningly about her face; Lavina, the servant assigned to her, had fastened it away in various places to as to make it appear even longer and enhance the natural curl. "Thank you," she whispered demurely in response. The slave woman stepped back and gazed upon the young woman with something akin to longing—oh, how she wished it was SHE who had a beauty splendid enough to attract a great man!_

_"I wish I were I you, Milady," she murmured. _

_"What did you say?" Lavina looked at the girl in shock and clasped a hand over her mouth—she had not intended to speak her words aloud._

_"N-nothing. I meant nothing, Milady." As Calliliana looked at the young woman, there were unshed tears stirring the emerald-sea waters of her eyes._

_"My beauty has only brought me sorrow—except for once—and I would wish it on anyone only if I wished a curse." Though the servant girl obviously did not understand, she nodded obediently._

_"Yes, Lady." With one last surveying glance she added, "You are readied to perfection—shall I take you in now?" Calliliana closed her eyes, her mind racing. Could she do this? What was the price that she must pay to save the life of her dearly beloved husband? Could she endure the trials before her? Was she strong enough to…_

Leander.

_The maiden opened her eyes._

_"Take me to him."_

_"Ah the prodigal at last! Though I must say, Milady, the waiting was truly worth the result." Marcus Agrippa swept the girl a low and flamboyant bow, took one of her hands in his own, and pressed his lips fervently against it. Calliliana bit her tongue and forced a smile on her lips, all the while hoping that the centurion did not feel how her body trembled at every word he spoke._

_"You are very kind to heed my request. Now, what is it that I must do to incline you to mercy towards my husband?" At the mention of Leander, Agrippa stiffened and his midnight eyes became dangerously dark._

_"Come now, Calliliana. The night is young, and we have much time to speak of these matters. Recline with me and enjoy the supper that I have ordered prepared for you!" The Roman took her by the arm, with a show of gentleness but no tenderness at all, and led her to the table. The maiden reclined facing him, feeling more ill at ease with each passing second—never before had she reclined with a man other than her husband! _

_"Where are your other guests?"_

_"You are the only one." Calliliana's eyes widened frightfully and a rosy flush slowly infused all of her exposed flesh. _

_"You said it was to be a party of people…" _

_"I never said that. Only that you were invited to a dinner party—which this is, and you are. Now, do not bore me with useless chatter any longer…enjoy yourself!" Agrippa clapped his hands twice, and a servant entered with a goblet of wine._

_Calliliana was barely able to stomach the food she was served, though it was delicious and of the highest quality imaginable—she could feel the eyes of her husband's tormentor devouring her with every slight movement she made. She attempted to speak to the man, to make conversation that was pleasant and witty—but she felt halfway through the meal that if she was to be forced to keep talking, she would lose her mind by the end of it._

_Agrippa, on the other hand, could not recall when he had enjoyed himself more. He gazed upon the woman before him, relishing the sight of her body in its revealing dress as she lay before him, one hand supporting her rose-flushed face. Oh, how lovely she was…how desirable…He cleared his throat, and she looked into his eyes; the sight of her sea-green gaze stirred the hot blood within him even more and steeled him for his purpose._

_"Now that you have eaten, let us discuss the matter at hand. I promised you that there was one way, and one way only, that you could save your husband—and that I would speak of it to you this night." The girl nodded._

_"You know that I will do anything to save him who I love." Marcus stiffened again at her words "him who I love"_. _Oh, how he would make her pay for every unintentional aggravation she had caused him…_

_"Then what do you think I shall ask you?" Calliliana looked at him in confusion—never was innocence more perfectly mirrored then in her face at that moment. Marcus smiled inwardly—how he LOVED destroying innocence!_

_"Will you free him for possessions? You know that my husband is a wealthy man. Do you wish lands? Villas? Livestock?" Agrippa laughed at her, and with a move so sudden it caused the girl to cry out, he caught her tightly in his arms._

_"How painfully naïve you are, Girl. I want one thing only…I want _you._" Calliliana stiffened and opened her mouth in a soundless cry._

_"I am a married woman, General! I have a husband, and I have a son! I am no slave girl…" Marcus slapped her then, not harshly enough to leave a mark but with enough force and rapidity to make her cry. _

_"If you wish to save your husband, Wench, then tonight you ARE a slave girl. MY slave girl." He slowly tickled her neck, and moved closer to her. "If you wish your husband to live, you will do exactly as I say. This is the only way I spoke of; this is the only choice I give to you." The centurion stood, pulling the weeping girl with him, and pressed her to him in a passionate embrace. "Tonight is the last night of your husband's life, or it is the beginning of the rest of your lives together. The choice is yours, Calliliana Maximinus. What will you choose?"_

_The weeping maiden did not fight as the strong Roman carried her limp form to his room._


	17. Chapter 17

4

**Thanks so much to montypython61 for all the awesome reviews! You are keeping me going and encouraging me…this story is for you!**

**And a warning to all you readers: this story is going to get worse before it gets better…much worse. But I promise you that the ending will be worth it. So please stick in there, review, and no flames please. **

_When Calliliana awoke the next morning, she lay still for a moment, staring vacantly at her surroundings. The bed she lay upon—naked, as it were—was made with the finest Egyptian linen that she had ever seen before in her life. The room was no larger than was her room in Maximinus' villa, but it was adorned with greater opulence by far than was hers. Leander favored a much more simplistic and beautiful style of decorating within his home—he preferred to spend most of him time in his lush gardens anyhow. _

_At first, the girl was content to simply lie in the strange bed, gaze at her foreign surroundings, and attempt to collect her scattered thoughts. Where was she? In whose bed was she reclining so comfortably? Where was her husband…? _

Her husband!_ At the thought, the maiden's full faculties were mercilessly restored, and she sat up with a strangled cry—only to be met by pain screaming from every muscle in her body. "Oh my Lord," she cried aloud in anguish, as the hot, bitter tears soaked her face, "What have I done? What have I done?" For it was then that she remembered the night before in all of its hideous detail._

_"…Tonight you ARE a slave girl. MY slave girl…if you wish your husband to live, you will do exactly as I say…this is the only choice…"What could she have done? Leander, her beloved, beautiful Leander, would have died a death of the most painful infamy known to man. What could she have done, other than comply completely with the wishes of her tormentor?_

_She had allowed him to carry her unresisting form to his room, and there…oh there, he had had his way with her! The maiden doubled over in agony at the memory and pressed a hand to her mouth to smother the bile filling it. Marcus Agrippa was as cruel with a woman as he was with his prisoners—to this she could attest with all certainty. When she had cried out, he had struck her, when she had attempted to plead for mercy, he had threatened her husband with various tortures so heart-rending, it had seemed to the pitiful young woman that her very blood curdled within her veins. _

_Calliliana looked down at her naked body and took stock of it; there was not an inch of flesh without some mark or another upon it. She was covered in livid, hideous bruises the size of a denarius, and many parts that had escaped bruising were decorated with raw-looking red marks. Every time the young woman moved, her body wailed aloud in protest; she had been used to the tender loving of her husband, whose main concern was pleasing her and avoiding her pain at any cost. Agrippa had been so rough with her, her body recoiled in horror as she recalled the pain that he had inflicted upon her body, so newly divested of its glorious burden of child._

_At just that moment, the door to the room opened. Calliliana stifled a scream and clutched the linens about her quivering form—but it was only Lavina, the young slave who had readied her the night before. She entered the room shyly, her eyes cast upon the floor, and every movement of her body seemed slightly afraid. "Thus are those who serve this man," thought Calliliana to herself as she watched her, "they…we…live in fear!"_

_"What do you require this morn, Domina?" Calliliana narrowed her eyes at the girl._

_"Nothing…save this." She crept towards the edge of the bed and sat there, a pleading look on her youthful face, tears shining in her eyes—tears of stained and tarnished innocence. "Please, I beg of you, look at me. I am not, I swear to you, some whore that this man has purchased for the night. I have a child, a son whom I adore, and a husband who is my life…it was for him I did this thing." The slave woman still did not meet her gaze; her dark eyes flitted restlessly across the room. Calliliana bowed her head and gave vent to her bitter anguish, her sobs racking her aching body and filling the room with their sound. "P-please," she stammered, her white hands clasped before her breast, "please. As one woman to another, meet my eyes. Do not condemn me as a whore, as I am sure that many will do, now. Let me know that God is good to me still, that I have one friend left to me in this dark and bitter hell which is my life. Please…look at me." Lavina slowly raised her eyes to meet the face of the young woman whose beauty she had so admired and wished to possess the night before. _

_She was still beautiful, oh so beautiful, as she sat there, the crystal tears splashing from her emerald eyes down her marble face. Her hair was still arranged as it had been the night before, though now it was so mussed and tousled it made a veritable haystack of gold around her face (which was still oddly becoming). Lavina moved closer to the weeping girl, reached out a hand to touch her…it was then she saw the marks upon her. _

_Not one surface of the girl's body, save her face, had escaped without some mark or another upon it. The slave girl doubled back in horror—this lovely young girl appeared as if she had just undergone the most punishing of tortures. She had._

_"Oh, Domina," Lavina whispered, as she gently stroked the girl's hair, "Oh, my lady, what has he done to you? Why did you allow him to do it?" Calliliana wept the harder at this._

_"To save him who I love! My husband is condemned to death—death this very day, and your wicked master made it very clear to me that unless I submitted to him, unless I gave myself to him 'in the manner of a slave girl'…my husband would die. I did what he bid me…" The young Greek doubled over in a fit of weeping so great, her words came out only in a strangled whisper, "I think now I have done wrong. Leander will never want to look at me…or touch me…or love me again…after what I have done."_

_"Surely your husband is a good man," soothed Lavina, who felt her own tears traverse their way down her cheeks, "he will know that you have done what you did to save him!"_

_"But I am nothing!" wailed the heartbroken girl. "I am used; useless! I am tarnished silver, I am broken glass, I am lusterless gems…" her voice fell so low the servant had to bend close to hear it. "I am nothing." Lavina lifted the maiden's face in her own work-worn hands, and gazed upon her reddened face._

_"Never say that! I take it, by your words, that you are a follower of the Christ." Calliliana nodded. "Did he not say that He would never leave you, nor forsake you?"_

_"Then where is He?" the maiden murmured listlessly. "He is not here, that is certain." Lavina shook her head._

_"God moves in mysterious ways, my friend. He is with you in the darkest places, even though you cannot see Him. He is in the dungeons with your husband now, though perhaps the man might not sense it. And He is with you, in your prison." Calliliana met the woman's gaze._

_"How do you know so much about The Way?" she asked softly, her full lips trembling with sorrow. Lavina sat down beside her and artfully massaged her back, careful to avoid the places marked by the cruelty of her despicable master._

_"Your prayer that God would send you a friend now was answered. I follow the Way myself." Calliliana attempted to turn and gaze upon her new-found friend, but the woman would not allow it. Gently forcing her into a comfortable position on the bed, she offered, "My master is gone for the day, and you are safe. If he forced you once, it is not likely that he will force you again—at least, if he is to keep his word." The woman's last words struck fear into Calliliana's heart more forcefully than a blow._

_"_If _he keeps his word?" she gasped in horror, as she rose again to a sitting position. "You mean I did all of this…" Lavina gently pushed the maiden back down upon the bed._

_"Hush. Do not worry, my dear. Now this is what I shall do: I will salve your wounds, then get you dressed and send you on your way. You must be eager to return to that bright-eyed babe of yours!" Calliliana nodded; she had been too numb with grief to even think of little Leander. Now she realized, in a state similar to panic, that her poor little son must be famished with hunger._

_"Yes, I must go to him." Lavina began mixing various herbs she had brought with her into soothing salves and balms—she had had an idea the young woman would be in this condition, and had come prepared._

_"Good, you are thinking of other things now. And perhaps, your husband will even be home waiting for you when you return! Surely you realize that he must love you all the more for what you have done._

_"Yes…" Calliliana murmured, as the tears filled her eyes again and teetered precariously on the edge of her lashes, "…perhaps."_


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey all! This chapter is very sad, I'm not going to lie…but, again, I promise it will get better. The next chapter will also be awful, but after that some bright spots will appear again. Trust me, this story is not a downhill spiral the whole way. The ending will be worth it all. So I hope you stick in there…**

**Thanks again to montypython61. Your reviews make this worth it!**

_The light of dawn was just beginning to overspread the hills with its glorious blanket of light when Calliliana Maximinus set forth from the abode of Marcus Agrippa. Lavina watched her go, her slender shoulders slumped slightly forward with her burden of shame, pain, and fear…oh, how she hoped against hope that the woman's husband loved her the more for the price she had paid for his life! The slave woman had done her best to salve the maiden's physical wounds—but she knew that the wounds within would be the ones that would require time and the Hand of God alone to salve._

_Calliliana hastened wearily towards her home, avoiding the pedestrians that seemed to throng the roads in ever increasing number with each corner she turned. She attempted to keep her thoughts on things that would keep the memories of what had happened to her locked away…but each recollection, no matter how beautiful, was poisoned by her tormented mind. The girl squeezed her eyes shut, striving with all of her might to silence the two voices that warred with one another inside her head._

_"Hurry, hurry!" chided one, "you must get home to your son! He is famished by now…think of how his beautiful eyes gaze upon you as you hold him…"_

"His eyes alone, at least, will not condemn you…"

_"He is my son. He knows nothing, nothing, of what I have done, nor will he understand. If I could only look upon him once more, touch his hair, gaze into his storm-sky eyes…"_

"Eyes like his father…at least THOSE innocent infant eyes will not condemn you…"

_"Perhaps Leander is home by now! Oh, how I long for him to take me into his arms, to kiss me softly…"_

"Whatever makes you think that he will want you any longer? You are a used woman…a bloody, soiled, useless woman…"

_"He will forgive me! He MUST! I am his wife…"_

"You are a WHORE!"

_Calliliana cried aloud then, drawing the stares of more than a few curious onlookers, and broke into a run. She heeded not the pain crying at her from every sore muscle in her body, she disregarded the sharp stones that lodged themselves within her sandals and cut into her delicate feet, she did not care that all around her gaped at her in curiosity…she saw nothing. She felt nothing._

_Until she saw them. Until she heard them._

_Her blurred vision cleared enough to allow the young woman to see a crowd of early-risers thronging around a public spectacle. "What is it today?" she wondered blankly, as she stared at the multitude. "Is another hapless maiden being sold into slavery? Is a poor wretch being whipped for deserting his post…is…" her mind ceased functioning then, as her eyes took over. _

_For she had seen the crosses. And she had heard those upon them._

_There were ten, ten blood-soaked instruments of torment, lining the road—nine of which had living, breathing wretches still suffering upon them, shrieking aloud in their pain. Women of all ages, beauties, and stations clustered around them, weeping loudly—these, she reasoned, must be the family of the suffering individuals. Calliliana felt the bile rise into her throat once more at the sight, as her heart began to beat wildly. She forced her way through the crowd, disregarding completely the other bystanders—those about her gazed at her annoyance at first, but one glance at her beautiful, wide-eyed and frantic face caused them to back away and give the maiden her room. _

_She walked from cross to cross, her pitiful eyes searching each face…each wretched face…for her husband. Each man's visage was so twisted in pain as to be almost unrecognizable—but the girl saw with eyes of the heart. Each man in succession was not him…not her husband…not her Leander. The beating of her heart slowed slightly, for the first time she was beginning to be filled with hope. _

_Calliliana passed the ninth cross, saw that it was not her husband, and moved on to the tenth—the only cross without a criminal upon it. She gazed frantically about her, until her gaze lighted upon an old woman standing near. "Please," she gasped, snatching at her arm, "please tell me; where is the man slain upon this cross?" The old woman tilted her head and gazed quizzically upon the maiden, her face as beautiful as a statue and every bit as white and colorless._

_"He died faster than the rest, Domina. They removed him but a few moments ago." Calliliana felt as though she could not breath as she asked her next question—as it left her lips, she felt as though she would be sick, so nervous was she._

_"And can you tell me his name?" The ancient thought for a moment. _

_"I remember hearing it before. You can see for yourself, look at the sign upon the cross!" Calliliana bit her lips._

_"I cannot force myself to…I am afraid of what I might see. Please…would you be so kind as to read it for me?" The old one squinted her eyes and stepped close to the cross. _

_"The name…well let me see…my eyes are not what they used to be now, you know…ah! I have it now! Leander Maximinus was his name. Now then…" she turned once again to the maiden._

_Calliliana stood there in front of the cross, clenching and unclenching her hands. Her face was completely white now, so white that her emerald eyes appeared emblazoned on her face, so hotly and furiously did they burn. Her mouth was open in horror, and it was with alarm that the old woman noticed blood dripping from it and staining the woman's face and clothes—the girl had bitten her tongue until it bled. _

_"Oh my dear," the woman soothed, as she hesitantly moved forward, "it is not good for you to be here. Please, let me take you away…" Calliliana pushed herself away as the woman attempted to put her arms around her._

_"Please," she gasped brokenly, "leave me. I thank you for your kindness, but no one must speak to me just now. I cannot bear it!" The ancient woman stared down at the girl, who by this time had fallen upon her knees near the cross. _

_"You knew him then?" The lovely young maiden buried her face in her hands, and abandoned her wounded body to tremors and spasms of grief._

_"I…I did. I gave my life for this man!" _

_"Your life? But what can you mean…" _

_"Please!" Calliliana gazed up at the woman with eyes so filled with pain, shock, and horror that the woman stepped back in fear. She had never seen such eyes, eyes that spoke of torment before, not even in the dying gazes of the men around her. "Please," Calliliana repeated brokenly, as she returned her face to her hands, "please leave me. I must be alone now. It is too much…oh dear Lord, my heart is too full!" The woman nodded sadly…though she did not understand, she could recognize suffering when she saw it. She backed slowly and respectfully away. _

_Once she was sure that the kind woman had left, and that those around her were too preoccupied with their own grief to notice her, then and only then did the young woman feel safe. She closed her eyes, attempted to still the raging thoughts in her mind…but one voice only now could she hear. _

"You are alone now in the world. You have done nothing but bring grief to this man…he LOVED you, he gave you EVERYTHING, and what did you do? You betrayed him who saved you from a life of sorrow and pain. Perhaps with his dying breath, he discovered that you had betrayed him at the last…he knew, perhaps, what you are…you WHORE!"

_Calliliana slumped senseless to the ground._


	19. Chapter 19

4

**Sorry it took me so long to update this time! this chapter is soooo sad. But I promise that things will get better in the end. Thanks again to Montypython61!**

_"Wake up now, Woman. Wake up!" Calliliana awoke to the feeling of a strong hand jostling her shoulder; she shook herself slightly and looked up. _

_A man was looming over her, a man with a ponderously kind face and walnut-hued eyes that were filled with curiosity and concern. Due to the fact that he was stooped over her, it was hard for the maiden to tell whether or not the man was tall—but she did notice that he had lovely black hair falling about his face in glorious disarray—hair shadowy enough to make the bronze hue of his skin appear pale. "Who are you?" she asked quietly, her troubled emerald eyes roving curiously over his face and form—it was then her breath caught in her throat. The man was wearing the uniform of a soldier of Rome—and she had remembered._

_Calliliana attempted to scramble to her feet—but her haste caused her world to swim before her eyes once more. The young soldier half caught her in his arms as she slumped towards the ground. "Are you alright?" he questioned, his concern evident in his surprisingly tender tone of voice. The young woman looked upon him as she answered, and it seemed to the Roman that never before had he seen such eyes. Beautiful eyes they were, worthy of the face that framed them—but eyes devoid of any life, of any hope, and of any love. He was gazing into the eyes of a statue._

_"I knew one who was executed here this morn," she murmured so softly, the young man had to stoop close to catch her breathy whisper. The young soldier attempted to force his facial muscles into the hard mask of oblivion he had been trained to assume—and failed._

_"Who did you lose, Domina?" Calliliana began to cry softly, in soundless, racking sobs that shook her exhausted body._

_"He was c-called Leander—Leander Maximinus." The soldier scanned the row of crosses until his eyes came to light on the empty cross bearing the name of Leander._

_"He died not long ago, Domina—and I hope that it brings you some comfort, at least, to know that he died bravely without a murmur of a complaint." The girl shook soundlessly at this, and furiously wiped at her eyes. _

_"He was a brave man, Sir." She stood slowly, leaning heavily on the compassionate young soldier for support. "Thank you." _

_"You are in no way fit to travel, Domina. My work here is done for now; please allow me to escort you to your home." Calliliana began to shake her head, then thought better of it. She knew nothing of Agrippa's current whereabouts, and she would much prefer to have a strong man by her side in case she _did_ happen to encounter him. She nodded slowly. _

_"You have my thanks again." _

"_Where are you bound?" The young woman flogged her tormented mind for a suitable answer—she had to get home to her son…but if Agrippa hated her family so, would it not be folly to lead another Roman to where he might inform the commander on the whereabouts of his late rival's son? On the other hand…what were the odds that that would truly happen? The young woman realized how famished her child must be by now…_

"_Take me to the home of Leander Maximinus, the late jewel merchant." Calliliana felt, rather that saw, the soldier eyes upon her._

"_Were you that close to the young man?" Once again, the girl did not know how to respond. If she gave the soldier her true name, and that she was Maximinus' wife, he might very well inform Marcus of where she resided. Being in that man's hands once more would surely be a fate more cruel than death…_

"_I was a slave in his household, Sir. I looked after his young son and tended the house together with an old servant woman. My name is Aemilia." The soldier nodded amiably._

"_And mine is Antonius. Come, Aemilia, I will take you to the villa. Most assuredly you will be able to rest better there from your grief."_

_Calliliana allowed the young man to take her gently under the arm, and lead her from the place of her husband's grisly demise. She did not look back._

_As the two approached the large villa of Maximinus, Calliliana could sense that something was amiss. A dreadful foreboding filled her heart and threatened to flood and destroy her senses with its horrific potency. She rushed ahead of her escort._

_"Please," she whispered, turning to the young man in icy dread, "wait here for me, outside. I do not know what I will find within." _

_"Do you have any reason to believe that something is wrong?" The damsel shrugged her shoulders and attempted to act casual._

_"I do not know—I only wish to find out myself. I thank you once again for your kindness—it was needed more than you can ever know. But I was close to this man's family, and I must break the news to them myself."  
"Surely they would have heard that the young man was to die…"_

_"They keep to themselves, Sir…nothing much from the outside world slips through the cracks of these portals." So saying, Calliliana darted through the garden and up the front steps of the villa, leaving Antonius very much alone and very much confused._

_"Kalyca!" she shrieked, as soon as the heavy wooden doors were shut tightly behind her, "Kalyca, where are you?" The young woman dashed frantically throughout the lower portion of the house, her eyes skipping hastily over everything that she saw in an attempt to discern her friend and her son—so far everything in the house looked untouched—they must be safe! "Where are you?" she whispered aloud, the mounting dread she felt growing ever more intense in every fiber of her body. Calliliana scampered up the stairs, her golden hair flying out wildly behind her in her haste. With her fear-dilated emerald eyes, the pallor of her skin, and the flying halo of her flaxen hair, the woman appeared as a fair white blossom, its golden petals torn and disheveled on a wind-blown day. _

_The maiden reached the second floor of the villa, and swiftly trod the distance to her son's nursery. There, she reasoned with herself, there they would most likely be found! It was still early in the morning…of course they were both still aslumber and had not heard her cries…Calliliana paused on the threshold to her son's room, her quivering knees compressed beneath her thin linen robe. "Kalyca?" she whispered softly. Still no answer. With trepidation so great it nearly choked her; the damsel slowly opened the door._

_The small room was dim, so dim—but, of course, Kalyca had no yet risen and raised the window coverings! Calliliana did so herself, chuckling mirthlessly as she did so. How could she be so silly, to think that Agrippa would harm her family! He most likely _did_ take issue with her husband for his religion and cared nothing for the man's family at all…_

_The maiden blinked against the sudden light, and shook her head slowly as if to clear it from sleep. She gazed about her then, and could easily discern Kalyca lying on the baby's pallet, one arm wrapped protectively around him. "How sweet, you darling nurse," the girl thought to herself as she slowly crept nearer, careful not to wake the two. "How could I ever have been so foolish as to think that something would have happened to you both…?" She gently placed one hand on Kalyca's shoulder--the old woman fell back towards Calliliana at the slight touch. The maiden jumped back in horror, her lips parted in a soundless cry of agony as she gazed upon the scene before her. _

_The ancient servant woman was cold and lifeless, her ebony eyes opened towards the sky in the unseeing gaze of death. Her wide mouth hung slack, her teeth, lips, and chin all dribbled with blood, and the few grey locks of hair that wisped about her face were matted with the red liquid as well. The rest of her body—oh the rest of it! was covered in the blood from her slit throat—and, as Calliliana saw with a genuine wail of sorrow, the blood of her son. _

_All fear of death left the maiden as she reached out and tenderly caught up the body of her dead child and nestled it against her breast. The babe looked much the same as his elder, though he was completely covered in gore given his size. "Your throat too," murmured the tortured woman as she rocked herself painfully back and forth on her heels, "the demons could not even spare one as young as you!" She wept then as she had not wept in her life…all of the emotions of the previous weeks…months…years…gave vent to the fountains which were her sorrow! Calliliana crouched near the body of her friend Kalyca and her tears bedewed the body of her tiny son as she emitted all of her grief in piteous, heart-wrenching sobs that filled the villa with their sound._

_"Domina?" Calliliana started up at the sound of a voice and turned, a wild-animal panic in her eyes and in every move of her body. If he who stood without was Agrippa, the girl felt—she KNEW—that for the first time in her life, she could kill a man._

_But it was not Agrippa. Antonius, young Antonius with his empathetic eyes and tender hands, stood before her, a look of horror filling his face as he gazed at the scene before him. "Oh Domina," he murmured as he took in the dead woman and child, and the fairest creature he had ever seen besmirched with their blood. "Oh Domina." He could not say more. _


	20. Chapter 20

4

_Antonius moved slowly towards the stricken woman, who was too heart-rent from her recent sufferings to back away from him. "You must have been very close to this man's family—I cannot tell you with what sorrow I see the judgment Rome has enacted upon them." Calliliana shook herself as if from a trance._

_"Do you see this child?" she asked slowly, as she held the cadaver of her beloved little Leander before the soldier's eyes. Blood dripped slowly from the corpse onto the pale blue stola of the young woman—as the soldier hastily averted his eyes from the scene, the two colors so combined appeared to him as though the cloudless sky was weeping blood. "Do you see what your nation has done to this innocent babe?" Antonius could scarcely force his horrified eyes to meet the tortured gaze of the half-crazed woman before him._

_"I do see. And for what it is worth, Aemilia…I beg your forgiveness. I know not what services you did for this man and for his family, but I can see that you were close to them…" Calliliana was not listening any longer. A low, keening moan sounded deep within the recesses of her throat and she fell slowly to her knees. She had thought that she would have no more tears to cry once she saw the empty cross of her husband. _

_She had been wrong._

_Antonius felt the hair on the nape of his neck rise with terror as he heard the unearthly wails of the woman before him, and as he saw her thus, crouching low to the ground over the babe, like a wounded she-beast with its slain young. "She must have been this babe's nursemaid," he thought, his body unconsciously appraising her slender, rounded hips and milk-full breasts. "It is said that a bond is formed between a woman and the child she cares for…she must have loved him as deeply as did his father." _

_Calliliana's sobs subsided somewhat after a short while, and she stood painfully, the body of her little Leander still clutched tightly in her arms. "What m-must I d-do with th-them?" she stuttered softly, a question burning in her tear-bright eyes. Antonius was struck by how young Aemilia sounded as she spoke to him—grief had shattered the shell of the woman about this maid, and rendered her once more a helpless little girl. _

_"I shall help you bury these two. We cannot leave them lying here." The maiden shook her head slowly._

_"And then where am I to go? What shall you do with me?" Again, the soldier was struck by the question in the girl's soft young voice. He realized at last that, though she was young and she appeared untouched by the cruel world about her, she had at least learned to fear him in the way all women must fear men—that all beautiful, foreign women must fear the soldiers of Rome. He laid his hand upon her shoulder gently, and was pleased when she did not flinch away._

_"You need not fear me, Aemilia, nor anyone else while I am by your side." He stooped, and with averted eyes, began to gently roll the gruesome remains of Kalyca into a blanket. "If you wish it, you may come to live with me. I share a small villa with my sister, Sylvia, and she has been in great need of a ladies' maid." Antonius looked up, to see what looked like a small glimmer of hope begin to dawn in the storm-tossed green seas of the maiden's eyes. _

_"Oh yes, oh yes, it is good. I can do that kind of work!" Her voice was eager in its childishness, and Antonius could not restrain a smile. _

_"You will please her I think." The soldier stood, his well-formed biceps bulging under the strain of the blanket-shrouded body he carried upon his back. "Come now; let us lay these poor souls to rest."_

_Calliliana stood by silently as Antonius dug two deep wells within the earth of the beauteous garden—that garden in which she and her beloved had spent so many happy hours—and as he carefully laid the remains of those she loved into them. "You have wept enough this day," she told herself firmly as thus she stood, forcing herself to stare straight ahead upon a little blue flower. She must not think of them…she musn't…or this kind Roman would grow suspicious…_

"This flower is the color of your robe, the hue of a sapphire gem…"

_STOP IT! Calliliana attempted to flog her mind into submission. She must NOT think of Leander, NOT now. It could only prove to be dangerous for her. The maiden gave the innocent little flower upon which her gaze had alighted a look poisonous enough to have withered it. She turned aside, realizing that the blue blossom had been what had triggered her thoughts of her husband. Instead, she trained her eye upon a little bush of delicate roses. _

"Do you see this rose? It is the color of your cheeks when I speak to you…"

_"Oh Leander!" she cried out, her sob of agony escaping her ill-disciplined lips before she could snatch it back. Antonius rose from placing the last heap of earth upon the second grave, a question in his eyes. _

_"What was the bond between you and the criminal?" At that moment, Calliana had a vision of herself throwing her full weight upon the man, felling him to the ground, and grinding the dirt from the path into his pitiful eyes. No one…no one indeed, should ever call her husband a criminal! With great effort, the maiden stilled her tumultuous emotions._

_"It was also the name of the child." She said no more, thought Antonius would feign have questioned her again upon the matter. Instead, the girl gathered up her small bundle of garments (she had taken care to leave all of her most beautiful clothing lest the man grow suspicious of her true place in the household of Maximinus) and walked hastily from the garden. _

_The villa of Antonius and Sylvia was smaller by far than the villa of Maximinus, but it was lovely and refreshing to the maiden's tired eyes. A small fountain bubbled in the middle of the entry, its fountainhead shaped like a roaring lion. The mosaics upon the floor were lovely indeed to behold, all telling stories from the classic myths of the Romans and the Greeks. From where she stood, Calliliana could see that the adjacent rooms were also tastefully furnished and welcoming. "Your sister indeed has a gift for making a weary traveler feel at home," she said softly._

_"I thank you." Calliliana gasped and turned to behold a tall woman, taller than many of the men she had known in her life, coming gracefully towards them. She was pretty, the maiden saw as she neared them, with dark-hued classical features and the thick, rippling dark curls of the Roman race. She was incredibly slender, perhaps as a result of her extreme height, and Calliliana could not help feeling even more like a child as a she gazed upon her. Sylvia smiled then at her brother, a mischievous light dancing in her onyxian eyes._

_"Now who is this, Antonius? She is quite lovely." Calliliana found herself blushing at the praise, and she heard Antonius chuckle behind her._

_"A present for you, my sister. She was a servant in the household of…a merchant here…who recently departed this life." Calliliana silently blessed the man's name for keeping the hideous truth to himself, and she bowed herself into a graceful curtsey._

_"My name is Aemilia, Domina. I will be pleased to be of service to you." Sylvia smiled again, her eyes growing soft as the looked at the delicate flower of a girl before her._

_"I can already tell that you shall please me, Aemilia." She snapped her fingers twice and two young women appeared so swiftly, it appeared to Calliliana to have been as of magic. The one girl was a plump and rosy blonde, and her whole face looked as merry as the dimples adorning her cheery face and her twinkling blue eyes. Though she was possibly even older than Calliliana, the maiden found herself contemplating the "fairy-child" as she called her with a maternal air. The other woman, however, gave her pause._

_She was nearly as tall as was her mistress, and her head was graced by coarse, black hair tied back from her face in an unflatteringly tight bun. Her figure was solid, sturdy, and unwomanly, not delicate like that of the newcomer—it was obvious that she was built for hard labor and was used for such. A large hooked nose, deeply recessed and hooded eyes of a hue so palely brown they appeared yellow, thin, tan-colored lips, and sunken cheeks rendered the already plain face of the woman into something close to repulsiveness. Calliliana thought, with a chill of fear, that the woman, who was bending her cat-like gaze upon her with a definite look of disfavor, appeared more like to a corpse than maiden. _

_"Girls, this shall be your new companion. Aemilia, I would like you to meet my two handmaids—Albina," here Sylvia pointed at the giggling fairy-maid, "And Mara." Mara inclined her head slightly towards the newcomer, her golden eyes flashing fire. Calliliana bowed to them, her watchful gaze never leaving the look on the corpse-woman's face. "Now girls, take Aemilia to the baths. She will not be fit for work until she is cleaned, fed, and given a good night's sleep." Calliliana thanked her new mistress with her eyes._

_"Thank you, Domina. Your kindness is greatly appreciated." Antonius and Sylvia watched the beautiful newcomer leaver with her companions—and the venomous looks which Mara bountifully bestowed upon her lovely new rival escaped the notice of no one. _


	21. Chapter 21

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**Thanks to montypython61 and notafraidtolive for the amazing reviews. You guys keep me going and make me feel bad when I don't update faster!**

"_Come now; let us get you out of those filthy things!" Albina chattered merrily as she tested the bath water with one small, rounded white foot. When Calliliana drew back and clutched her bundle of belongings more closely across her chest, the servant girl giggled and added, "I'm hardly going to bite you, Aemilia. Now Mara here," at this the merry spirit- maid burst into a fit of laughter, "might do something just like that!" Mara uttered a noise low in her throat that was supposed to resemble laughter…but to Calliliana, it sounded more like a loathsome growl that only further enhanced Albina's point. _

_"I feel just fine, truly…" she lied, blushing hotly as she spoke the falsehood. She knew that nothing in the world would feel as welcome to her as the hot water of a bath on her bruised and battered skin…_

_Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the unwelcome appearance of Mara's swarthy face thrust into her line of vision. _

_"Nonsense, Girl. Orders we were given, and orders we must obey. Give me your bundle." Calliliana instinctively clutched her belongings closer to her, not wishing the rough-looking woman to gain access to them; Mara seemed to view this as a challenge. "Give them to me, I said," she repeated, as she roughly snatched the clothing away from the younger woman. Calliliana released them with a short cry of pain—Mara had jerked her arms with such force, the old pain from the hell-night before had surged through her once more like liquid flame. Albina looked at her curiously._

_"Why did you cry out? She did not strike you…Oh my!" the young woman gasped loudly and covered her cherubic mouth with one hand. Calliliana gazed at her curiously, unsure as to what had elicited such a reaction from the normally cheerful girl…until she looked down at herself._

_The blood of her slain loved ones still liberally spotted the front of her garment, enough to make it look as if she herself had been grievously wounded. Before the maiden could say anything, Mara stepped close to her once more and yanked at her tunic._

_"Here now, Wench—we now nothing about you. You look as innocent as a maid, no doubt, but behind those pretty flashing eyes of yours…" she looked scathingly at her new rival down the bridge of her eagle-like nose, "…behind those eyes lurks a demon I'll wager!" The eyes of the younger woman _did _flash fire then, and she painfully wrenched herself from her accuser's grasp._

_"I shall thank you to mind your own business! You know nothing about me, nor are you like to, now!" She turned her back to the two onlookers, and wordlessly began unfastening her tunic. Her face burned with firebrands of shame as she disrobed—she was a modest creature by nature, and hated to be exposed before others in any way…_

Though you exposed yourself before a MAN last night…what are two women?

_Calliliana bit her lips to stifle the evil tormentor within—how she hated the thorny goads of her own conscience, how they pained her more terribly than would a voice from another human being!_

_As hastily as she possibly could, Calliliana descended, or rather leapt, into the largest bath-pool, and allowed the hot water to sooth and caress her skin, like the arms of a patient lover. The damsel had fervently hoped that her movements would have been swift enough to prevent the other girls from noticing the distressing marks upon her body—but she had no such good fortune._

_Although Albina shied away from making any more comments about the state of the strange, beautiful newcomer, she had eyes in her head as well as any other young woman. She cringed inwardly as she saw the livid bruises and angry marks decorating the maiden's white flesh—some of them bore an odd resemblance to the imprints of teeth and of fingers—but the maiden was too naïve as of yet to know what they meant._

_For all of her ugliness, Mara was not naïve, and she knew. She knew._

_After her refreshing bath, the two servant girls provided their new companion with fresh, clean garments, though neither of them spoke to her as they aided her in dressing. Calliliana was grateful for this indeed; her heart was still too full of sorrow and pain to say much, if anything, at all. She allowed the two to lead her to the small room she was to be sharing with them, and watched as Albina carefully set her parcel of belongings in a corner. "It is quite comfortable here," she said softly, not quite able to raise her merry blue eyes to meet Calliliana's gaze, "I hope that you shall like it." Mara said nothing, though her feline eyes flashed angrily—if she had her way, this pretty little chit would soon be out on the streets! _

_Mara was a Jewish-born woman of Arabia who had been taken by a small party of soldiers on their way to Rome. She was sold in the slave market as a labor-woman, due to her lack of beauty and her strong build—but something about the regal, arrogant way she carried herself fascinated one of the younger soldiers in the party. He had bid and bought her for himself—and thus it was that Mara of Arabia came to live in the household of Antonius and Sylvia. She was not friendly to anyone, save sometimes to the joyous little Albina—small, smiling Albina, who was not a slave, but a paid servant—the daughter of a deceased friend of Sylvia— and who had somehow been able to coax the only smiles ever seen from those frozen lips. She was valued for her strength in the gardens and in manual labor that would have most often fallen to a man—but something about her bearing had appealed to Sylvia as well. The benevolent lady had promoted the woman to the much more luxurious position of lady's maid, along with vivacious Albina. Together they had served for approximately a year before the arrival of the lovely Calliliana, whose combination of such great beauty and such deep sadness mystified and rather frightened Albina._

_As Mara moved about the room, aiding Albina in setting it to rights for the other young woman, she could not keep herself from casting fervent glances at the Grecian slave. She was nowhere near as tall as she, that was certain—but oh, what beauty! What wretched, glorious beauty! Mara hated her for her sunny waves of golden hair. She despised her for her sea-green eyes that alternately flashed defiant fire and were quenched with crystal tears. She loathed her for her petite, slender figure and tiny feet and hands. But most of all she hated her for her mystique. _

_She knew, oh how well Mara knew, that beautiful women with a close-guarded secret secured in their hearts proved a great challenge and enigma to a man—and that his fervent desire was to win that beautiful prize for himself! _

_She knew that her master, Antonius, was handsome and young and otherwise unengaged—but that he was a fool where a beauty with a heart was concerned. It was obvious to her and to all that this new maiden, this Calliliana whom he had brought as a "present for his sister" was a beauty of rare quality—and that her heart was a cavern of treasured secrets, guarded more closely by her tormented mind that by a frenzied dragon in his cave. _

_This all Mara knew; it scorched her heart as a flame-burst and made her nearly ill with hatred._

_For all the passion of this sick and twisted mind, heart, and body that slaved within the plain young woman was given in love and desire for her master._

_Antonius retired that night early; he could not stop thinking of the beautiful girl he had just acquired for his sister. The young man had not yet shared the story of Aemilia with her new mistress; he was afraid that the over-kind Sylvia would try to talk to the maiden. And that would only make things worse. _

_The young Roman stretched out upon his bed, folded his hands beneath his head, and shut his eyes. There was the face of Aemilia, staring into his heart with a look of poignant pain and sorrow. He sat up quickly and shook his head, frightened almost by the intensity of the desire he felt for this woman—this girl. _

"_If only I could spare her more pain," he thought to himself, cringing inwardly as he recalled her look of stricken anguish and remembered her tortured cries. "This pitiful little maid has been through so much—I would interpose my very body between anything else that attempts to harm her, though it would cost my life!"_

_And thus it was that young Antonius knew he had fallen in love._


	22. Chapter 22

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**Hey everyone! Sorry that it took so long for me to update this time, I have had some really tough stuff going on. Thanks so much to all my wonderful reviewers! You make the work worth it all. Hope that you enjoy this next installment.**

_Calliliana also retired soon after the other two maidens had finished fixing her a place to sleep; her troubled mind could not bear another waking moment and her body cried aloud for some rest. She felt all of her bruises lash at her as she fell upon the small pallet, and she stifled a whimper of pain. Mara and Albina stood looking at her for a few moments, malice and curiosity shining in their respective eyes. The young woman could feel herself being watched, even with her eyes shut, and finally raised herself on one elbow._

_"I am indeed weary," she said slowly, attempting to keep her impatience from her voice. "I have been through much this day. Would you please leave me? I find it impossible to sleep while being watched…" Although she had half expected an argument from the women, they left the room soundlessly. As Calliliana lay back on her on her pallet however, she felt as though she could still see Mara's cat-eyes still gleaming at her within the gloomy light of the room. She turned herself on her back, careful to avoid her most tender sores, and finally closed her eyes. _

_There was her husband, her beloved husband, crying out her name as he was being nailed to the cross. _

_Agrippa laughed cruelly in his face, called her "whore", and wrote her name in the filthy ground of Rome with his rival's blood. He ground his feet upon it…_

_There was her son, happily bouncing on Kalyca's knee…there came ten soldiers, all of whom bore the demonic face of Marcus Agrippa; they dashed the old nurse to the ground and slashed her throat…_

_There was she, herself, reclining at table with the tormentor of her family. He leaned in to kiss her…_

_Calliliana started up with a cry loud enough to shake the foundation of the house. She gazed about her hastily; felt the cold sweat trickle down between her shoulder blades. She had been sleeping, she had been dreaming…but where was she? Was she still in her tormentor's house…in his bed…?_

_No. She raised a shaking hand to cover her face and groaned. No, she had been shown some kindness at last, and was residing as a servant girl in the house of that kind soldier and his lovely sister. Relief, or at least as much relief as she could feel under the circumstances, flooded her heart and her body, and released the lock she had put upon the vault of her tumultuous emotions. She wept in great, tearing sobs that sounded to those in the surrounding rooms (where the other maidens had decided to recline that night…away from the strange, sad neophyte…) as though her body was like to tear with them. Calliliana balled her fist and shoved it into her mouth, attempting with all of her might to stifle her loud cries—but she only succeeded leaving bloody teeth-gashes upon her knuckles._

"_There, there, little maid, hush." The voice of a woman, whispered tenderly in the dark. She felt two strong arms slip about her waist and draw her close; she melded against her unknown comforter and gave vent to the sorrow in her heart and in her mind. "Everything will be alright," she crooned gently, as she rubbed her back and stroked her long hair, "you will heal in time." Calliliana convulsively clutched the front of the woman's sleeping robe; with her eyes closed, she could almost force her tormented mind to believe that it was her husband who held her. _

"_I sh-shall n-never heal," she sobbed, her body shaking with her cries. Her companion gently turned her around until faced away from her, then began to tenderly massage her back. Her fingers were strong and sure, and she moved down and over the girl's back with quick, swift movements that nearly took her breath away. There was some pain as she burrowed her fingers deep into her sore muscles, but it was the kind of tenderness that led the maiden to believe it was doing her some good at least. She gradually allowed herself to relax against her touch, all the while imagining that it was the hands of her husband who caressed her, and the face of Leander who gazed at her tenderly in the darkness._

_Until the unknown's fingers unwittingly dug into a colossal bruise upon her back._

_Calliliana stifled a scream and shifted away from the woman as hastily as she could, biting down hard upon her lip to keep the tears of pain from coming once more. She felt the bed rise gently as the woman lifted his weight from it, heard her walk hastily across the room, smelled the acrid scent of smoke as she lit a small lamp hanging from the ceiling…and for the first time, she could see who her comforter was._

_Sylvia. _

_Her eyes, the rich golden-brown of the sun striking the stirred ground of Rome, were clouded over now with concern. "Forgive me," she said quietly, coming to sit beside her once more. "I did not intend to hurt you." Calliliana shook her head slowly, and let a tear slowly traverse her pale cheek._

"_It was not you, truly." _

"_Then what made you cry out?" Calliliana raised a hand to quickly chafe at the tear that made its way down her face; in so doing she felt the thin sleeve of her night-robe slip up over her arm. Sylvia uttered an exclamation of surprise as she beheld the livid bruises upon the exposed flesh of the girl. "Who did that to you?" she whispered softly, undercurrents of rage threatening to burst forth like a murderous prisoner escaping his bonds. Calliliana looked at the young woman in confusion, then glanced down at the marks upon her arm and understood._

"_I...I…" her mind tried to form some new excuse, some new falsehood. How could she tell this woman, her new mistress, what had befallen her? She might very well be cast out—for who wished to employ a whore in their service?_

"_Turn around." Calliliana looked blankly at her mistress._

"_Why, Domina?" Sylvia frowned darkly, as one unaccustomed to being questioned by her servants._

"_It is not for you to ask 'why' child. It is for me to ask all questions, and to give all answers. Now do as I say." Meekly, Calliliana obeyed. _

_She uttered a half-stifled cry, however, when she felt Sylvia rip apart the flimsy shoulder-seams of her dressing gown, and as she sensed the torn ends of the robe flutter down around her exposed waist. "What is this?" she gasped, as she modestly clutched the bed-clothes to the front of her half-nude body. Sylvia did not deign to answer; she merely made a thorough examination of each and every mark upon the young woman's naked back. _

"_Is the rest of your body like this?" she asked abruptly. A bright flush overspread Calliliana's face—surely, her new mistress was not going to examine her fully? _

"_Yes," she whispered softly, the humiliation of her predicament washing over her like waves over a storm-struck ship. She felt the bed rise as Sylvia stood again; heard her walk to the door._

"_Lie down. Your wounds need salving, Child—I will attend to them myself." Calliliana did not hesitate to follow her orders this time; she eased herself gingerly down upon the cot once more and covered as much as she could with the bed clothes._

"_What is this place?" she asked herself softly, as she closed her aching eyes against the bright lamp-light, "and who are these people who would be so kind?" She did not have long to ponder these thoughts, however, for Sylvia reappeared once more with various pots of healing liniments and balms. Much as had Lavina the morning before, the young Roman woman massaged the medicine into the maiden's injuries, never pausing to stop even when the girl winced in pain. _

"_Yes, I'm sure that it hurts," she said, as she continued to work the ointments into the girl's skin, "but that means that it will heal you in time." Calliliana did not utter a sound, save an occasional whimper of pain…but her red lips were redder for the blood that her teeth produced upon them. _

_Finally, Sylvia straightened and wiped her greasy hands upon her robe. "Thank you, Domina," Calliliana whispered softly, as she wriggled carefully into the new robe her mistress had provided for her. The tall young woman waved her hand in dismissal._

"_How could I do any less? If you are to serve me, you must be in good health." The maiden nodded her head, and dipped herself low into a respectful salute._

"_Still, I thank you for your kindness. It means much to me." The girl crawled into bed; she had expected that Sylvia would simply leave the room. The older woman instead made a rather impatient clicking sound with her tongue._

"_Have I dismissed you yet?" Calliana looked at her with wide eyes._

"_No…forgive me, Domina." She stood again, her face full of confusion. Sylvia looked her straight in the face for several moments, a question burning bright within her sun-struck eyes._

"_You may sleep, of course. But first you must tell me what—or who—made such marks upon you!" A fit of violent trembling shook Calliliana so that her teeth chattered audibly—the truth! She would be found out now!_

"_Domina, I…" Sylvia gently took the maiden's chin in her hand, and tilted her face up so that her frightened eyes met her firm ones._

"_No woman should have the marks upon her that you do without an explanation. I am not an idiot, Child…I know what made them." She looked out over the top of Calliliana's head, a vacant look in her usually clear eyes. "The most hideous of beasts it was, indeed. The one most known for its insatiable lust and hunger, the one that will stop at nothing. There are very few trainers in this world who are able to control such a beast, fewer still who can tame it. This beast is one which, in time, all women must learn to fear and respect, to feed and to satiate, to satisfy and to desire. That beast is man."_

_Calliliana nodded, and in a slow, halting voice, she told her mistress all of her woe. _


	23. Chapter 23

_Marcus Agrippa strode to his villa that night with sure steps as the murky phantoms of twilight drew steadily on. A smile was on his predatory face, and the fire of hell shone forth from his onyxian eyes—the fiendish gleam of a tyrannical conqueror. He had won once more, though this was the strangest battle he had yet fought! He had desired and won the woman of another man, had slain the rival, and had subdued the woman's pride to his own will and domination. To man, he thought gleefully as he unfastened the latch upon his door and purposefully entered the villa, no dominion was more desirable! _

_He wondered where the girl was now, as he made his way towards his bedchambers. Doubtless she had run off the moment she had awakened and found him absent, without question she had gone to find her husband. His eyes lit with glee as he thought of his rival's death…_

_Though it had not been entirely to his satisfaction. Leander Maximinus had died all too quickly; no cries for mercy, no pleas for the honor of his wife. Agrippa had not even had a chance to inform his detested rival of the pleasant evening before…_

"_Milord?" Marcus started abruptly at the sound of a voice and turned to see Lavina walking hesitantly towards him, bearing a small goblet of wine balanced precariously on an infinitesimal tray. He frowned; he did not like interruptions while he was thinking. _

"_Well?" The young woman trembled at the sound of his voice, causing the chalice to wobble and small drops of wine to stain the mosaic floor. _

"_I just wished to inform you…the woman of last night left the villa this morning." Marcus was surprised to feel his heart sink at her words; he had known she would leave him once her part of the bargain was fulfilled._

"_What of it?" he inquired brusquely, as he reached out to take the wine. Lavina drew herself up to her full height then, and even though she appeared still as a small, frightened mouse would to a ravenous lion, a bold look of defiance entered her eyes. She stepped back._

"_Before you drink, I feel I must speak to you as I never have before." A dangerous light filled the hawk-eyes of the seasoned soldier._

"_Speak then." Lavina stilled her knocking knees against one another as she hearkened to the dangerous threat underscoring his words, a threat as terrifying as the drum-beats heard before one's execution. _

"_Milord, I was the first to attend to that young woman this morning. Surely you did not mean to wound her so…" As Agrippa laughed harshly, the slave woman felt sure she could hear the dun…dun…dun… of the death-drums of her doom sounding ominously within her own ears._

"_She was very disobedient, Slave. I ordered her to submit to me as a slave girl, and there were times she still fought me…"_

Dun. Dun. Dun.

"_She fought for her honor!" Agrippa's whole face appeared now as midnight, so dark with rage was it._

Dun. Dun. Dun.

"_I will not argue with my slave. The wench was disobedient, and she was punished severely for her insolence. As will you be." Lavina stepped back nervously; she had known that some hideous price must be paid for her defense of the maiden…_

Dun. Dun. Dun.

"_Appius!" Marcus roared, as he cast a haughty glance upon his terrified slave girl. A tall, muscle-bound servant man appeared, a question in his eyes and a tremor in his sure step. The fear of life…such was the only true possession of all who served this man… "Take this girl and see that she is well flogged for her disobedience." Agrippa laughed cruelly at the look of terror that plainly overspread the features of Lavina, and at the look of discomfort that filled the eyes of the slave lad. The wine goblet fell from her hands, and the thin red liquid flowed like the miraculous River Nile over the stone floor. _

"_Oh spare me, spare me Milord!" the maiden begged as she fell to her knees, not caring in the least that she was now soaked in the wine of her master. With one swift motion, Agrippa reached out, grabbed her by the throat, and hauled her to her feet. He lasciviously nibbled at her ear and thrilled inwardly as he heard her gasp in horror and felt her tremble with displeasure._

"_Take heed to whip her carefully; do not make her bleed over-much," he commanded the red-faced Appius, whose labors dealt primarily with manual labor and never before with torturing women. Agrippa turned Lavina's neck so she looked him full in his face. A slow, predatory smile flitted across his features as he saw the stark fear mirrored in her glassy eyes. "For I do not wish my bed to be bloodied." Lavina cried out in horror, and Marcus let her drop to the floor. "Clean this mess up first," he said, gesturing to the spilled wine, "then, Appius, do your duty." He strode away, never pausing to look back. If he had, he would have been filled with a fury so great he would have flogged both of his servants himself._

_Appius had knelt beside the weeping Lavina, and was tenderly assisting her in washing the soiled floor. "I will do my best not to hurt you, Woman," he said gently, thinking inwardly how much he hated to cause pain to such a pretty young creature, "and I am indeed sorry for what I must do." Lavina attempted to still the beating of her heart._

"_It is _his_ punishment that causes me the greatest grief," she whispered, as she wiped at the spilled wine with the edge of her stola. Appius felt a surge of hate course through his veins…how he despised his master!_

"_I will pray that you are not harmed too greatly. If there is anything that I might do…" Lavina did not answer, she focused instead on sponging the wine away from the tiled floor._

_She could not help but notice as she did so that the wine had fallen on a mosaic depiction of a lovely, half-naked maiden. Her white skin was marred with the red drink, as was her blushing face. As Lavina contemplated her own torment that night, she felt as though she was sponging away the tears of the pictured maiden._

_Tears of blood._

_The heart of Mara was bitter over the arrival of her new mistress. It had been bad enough when the girl Aemilia had been a simple servant woman, such as herself…but now, now for reasons unknown, she was treated as the guest of Sylvia herself! Through whispered conversations with the other servants, Mara had come to learn that the name of the mysterious maiden was not Aemilia, but Calliliana Maximinus—the widow of a wealthy man. The slave woman had ground her teeth in fury when she discovered this; her status only made her that much more favorable to young Antonius! Mara knew then, as she stared at the beautiful woman day by day, made lovelier still by her richer adornments, that she could cheerfully slay her._

_Calliliana, for her part, was blissfully unaware of the feelings of hatred she had aroused in her former rival. She and Sylvia had become fast friends; indeed, the older woman felt as though Calliliana were her blood-sister. The Grecian beauty had pleaded for a time to be allowed to do some work with the other girls, but Sylvia insisted that she stay in their villa as a guest. She had spoken to her brother not long after Calliliana had shared her terrible secrets with her; the velvety brown eyes of the soldier had never blazed with such bright hatred as they did when his sister told him of the girl's violation. _

"_And yet this beast roams our nation freely, masquerading as a General even!" Antonius had roared, his hand straying ever so slightly towards his sword hilt. Sylvia had hushed him with a glance. _

"_Be still, my brother. The girl was harmed, yes, but the death of her husband is that which causes her the greatest grief. I think that the only lasting marks Agrippa made upon her are within her heart and her mind—not within her body."_

_But she was wrong._

_Several moons waxed and waned in the household of Antonius and Sylvia, and still Calliliana resided with them. On more than one occasion, the girl had pleaded with her kind friends to allow her to leave and find work somewhere if they would not themselves allow her to work. "Nonsense," Sylvia had told her brightly, as the three reclined in the garden one afternoon. "We think of you as an addition to our family—not as a burden. You are another sister to us, now—am I not right, Antonius?"_

_The young man did not answer at first. His rich eyes were perusing the luxurious wealth of Calliliana's golden tresses, the modest blush upon her cheek, the delicate emerald of her shining eyes, the delicious curves beneath her robe…_

"_Antonius did you not hear me?" The young man started in surprise._

"_Wha…I…no, no, Sister. Forgive me—what is it that you spoke of?" Sylvia smiled knowingly, as only a woman can._

"_I said that Calliliana is just like another sister to us now…is she not?" The tall young woman had to stifle a laugh as he watched a scarlet flush overspread the bronzed countenance of her brother._

"_I…um…well…of course. You are just like one of the family." He said this aloud, but whispered to himself, almost as an afterthought, "Mei Amor." _

_No one, of course, was close enough to hear his whispered words. No one, that is except a slave girl who was tending the garden nearby. A slave girl whose lean, brown corpse-face resembled something out of a nightmare as the words of her master settled upon her ears. _

_A slave girl whose cat-eyes gleamed a little more ferociously as their import clove its way through her venomous mind. _


	24. Chapter 24

5

"_Sylvia?" _

"_Yes, my dear?" Calliana shifted uncomfortably upon her divan, thankful that Antonius had left in a rather embarrassed rush after their earlier conversation. _

"_I have a…a rather delicate matter to discuss with you." A look of tender concern filled the eyes of the Roman; she leaned closer to her young friend. _

"_Speak then." Calliliana picked at her purple robe as a deep flush overspread her snowy skin, like new-spilled blood on new-fallen snow._

"_I…I am starting to be quite frightened. I have been in your house for well nigh three months now… and not once has my blood flown during this time." Sylvia's half-crescent brows raised in concern._

"_Calliliana…you do know what that means, do you not?" The girl buried her face in her hands, as dry sobs shook her body._

"_Yes, yes, of course! I am so afraid, Sylvia!" The older woman did her best to comfort her friend, but inwardly, her own fear was growing as well. _

"_It is alright, my friend, it is alright. Having a child after the death of your husband will be painful, yes. But think of this: you have one now to carry on his name, and to serve as a reminder of his father!" The anguished young woman lifted a pain-filled face to her friend, her emerald eyes like the waves of a storm-tossed sea._

"_But I…I had no relations with my husband for oh, ever so long, while I carried his child." A marbeline pallor slowly spread itself like a shroud over the bronzed skin of the older woman._

"_Then it is…" The look in Calliliana's eyes was enough to strike fear into the heart of any who beheld her, so great it was in its burning intensity._

"_It is _his_ child." She needed to say no more. She stood slowly, her hands hanging limply at her sides, and she looked out sightlessly over the gardens of her benefactors. "I will not love this babe, Sylvia. I cannot—he is the child of my misery and of my disgrace. I would rather have born the marks of Agrippa's cruelty upon my body until death…but this…this is the worst humiliation of all!" She turned then, as a new thought struck her. "What will I do? He must never find out about this child, surely you see that! If he knew…if he knew he would come for me…" Sylvia stood and hastily wrapped her arms around the trembling maiden._

"_Of course he will not know, Child. You will stay here with us, that goes without question, and we will help you care for your babe." Calliliana closed her eyes, attempting to shut up the pain with them._

"_I thank you for your kindness, as always." The Roman woman rubbed her back tenderly, her mind working quickly to formulate an answer to this puzzle._

"_No thanks are necessary; you are our family, Calliliana." She paused, a thoughtful look entering her shadowy doe-eyes. "No one need know that this child is not your husband's." Calliliana looked at her uneasily._

"_I do not wish to lie…" Sylvia shook her head._

"_You will not need to. Think for a moment—how many people, other than Antonius, myself, and the servants—do you see regularly?"_

"_None."_

"_Then who is there to know of your misfortune?" A bright look of hope entered the face of the troubled young woman for the first time in what felt like years._

"_Oh Sylvia…you are so kind!" Calliliana embraced her friend heartily as a sense of relief flooded over her like sweet, spring-time rain. No one would have to know that the child she carried belonged to her despised tormentor! Agrippa himself would never know... _

_But neither of the two rejoicing young women thought to pay heed to the bitter slave woman, who was still tending the gardens. Her rage flared like the brightest fire as she compared her state to that of her rival—she felt the hot sweat trickle down her back, and she contrasted this discomfort to that of the lovely Calliliana, who was clean and dressed in a fine purple robe. As she swiped viciously as a strand of her own sweat-bathed hair, she observed the perfectly wrought coils of the Grecian maiden's locks—curls that she herself had tended! _

_Mara leaned back on the balls of her feet and pondered all that she had heard. It was no surprise to her that her master was in love with the pretty little chit—no surprise at all, and yet the pain of it smote her bitter heart like hell-fire. It stunned her even less to hear that her mistress thought of Calliliana as a sister—this indeed had been obvious to Mara ever since she herself had been forced to attend the woman who was supposed to be yet another "ladies maid". _

_However...the woman stood, grunting heavily as she strained to lift a basket of weeds with her as she rose. That her detested opponent for the affections of her master was with child was a detail not to be overlooked. What was the name that the girl had mentioned, the name of the babe's sire? Mara furrowed her dark brow in thought and pursed her lips in frustration. It had begun with an A; she knew that much…and it certainly was not Antonius. Could it have been Augustine? Aurelius? Agrippa?_

_Agrippa! A small, sly smile snaked its way across Mara's sour face. Yes, Agrippa it was—Marcus Agrippa it must be, one of the most notorious generals of Rome! Mara knew many people outside of the microcosm of her master's villa, and she had heard of the exploits of Agrippa often. "Indeed," she smiled to herself as she cast the weeds into a small fire she had built earlier for the purpose, "it would be a cruelty past imagination to deny a father the right to his child!" The light of the fire danced in the wicked cat-eyes of the slave woman as she pondered this thought—at last, she had found a way to rid herself (and her master) of the intriguing young beauty!_

_As the heat finally became too much for the woman to bear, she turned and walked back towards the villa. She passed her mistresses as they stood together in the garden, discussing their plans in a low undertone thought to be safe from all ears. Mara continued her trek past the women…when suddenly a strange thing began to happen to her. She could not remember the last time that she had ever felt this way; it was almost suffocating her! The bitter woman held it in as long as she possibly could; tried in vain to suppress it—but at last it conquered her and rendered her helpless._

_She laughed._

_Sylvia turned in surprise when she heard the sound; she could not recall the last time she had ever heard the woman laugh. Calliliana, however, listened to the coarse, croaking guffaws of her adversary and felt a nagging fear tug at her mind. Could the woman have heard everything? Though she did not share the feeling with her friend, a sense of panic thoroughly pervaded each and every part of her body, and she breathed deeply to still the fearful beating of her heart. _

_She trembled. _

"_Milord?" Marcus Agrippa looked up at the silhouette of his slave girl, framed in his doorway by the light of the disappearing sun. _

"_What is it?" Lavina tiptoed hesitantly into the room, her body crying aloud in pain, and her mind tripped over itself with confused and restless thoughts. Ever since that first fateful night of her disobedience, oh so long ago now, Agrippa had begun tormenting her almost nightly—the great pain of her shame had become as a sixth sense to her, so ever-present was it. The pitiful young woman longed to be salved and comforted as she had consoled the beautiful young Greek woman so many months ago—but there was no one now for her. _

_Except for Appius—there was indeed the tender friendship of the handsome young Appius that remained to her despite her mortification. The young man had become a caring confidante to her; many were the times she had sobbed out her fear and her mortification to his listening ears. She was unaware that her recitations of her trials were becoming more and more difficult for her friend to bear in silence—he had long since come to care deeply for the pretty young Lavina, and he felt a rage against his master greater than the tossing of a stormy sea welling within his heart. He wished that he could heroically save the girl from her tormentor—but he also knew that in so doing, he would ensure a death-warrant for himself and for her. Lavina, in her turn, knew this as well—and she knew surely without a doubt that if it had not been for her Appius and her prayers for deliverance, she would have ended her own life long ago._

"_Well, what is it? You are keeping me waiting, Wench." The stern voice of her master—like a whip-lash to the back of a slave—caused the young woman's mind to jolt back to the present with painful reality._

"_There is a young woman here to see you, Milord." Agrippa stood and stretched the knotted muscles of his legs; he had been working far too hard lately. A little pleasure with a new woman would certainly be most welcome._

"_And did she give her name?" Lavina cast her eyes upon the floor and shook her head._

"_She did not, Milord." Marcus strode to the cowering slave, took her chin between his thumb and forefinger with a vice-like grip, and kissed her forcefully. Lavina had learned much in the last few months; she did not whimper or struggle. She only waited patiently until he deemed her submissive enough to set her free—free until that night at least._

_He is an iron hammer, she thought. And I am the anvil._

_Marcus let her go only when he himself had grown short of breath; he smiled and widened his coal-black eyes at her. With his lips peeled away from his white teeth—whiteness that matched the whites of his large, fearsome eyes—he resembled a monster of mythology to the pitiful wench before him. "Send her in, then. Do not keep me waiting, Girl." Lavina bowed hastily and scampered from the room. _

_Marcus sat down again behind a large, parchment-covered table that served as his desk, and waited. He had decided long ago that sitting at this desk made him look far more magisterial, more formidable…_

_A black-clad woman with a scarf about her face entered the room, and the Roman was struck at once by her regal bearing. "This woman is tall enough to be a queen," he thought, his mind appraising as much of her as it could in her loose-fitting robe. Marcus squinted his eyes at veiled visage. "Who are you, Woman? Let me see your face." Wordlessly, the woman unwound the scarf from about her head, and any illusions that the general had had about her beauty vanished._

_She was tall, that was certain, but beauty she had none—her face resembled a grotesque corpse almost more than it did a maiden. The woman stepped closer to him then, and he looked for the first time within her eyes. Pale and golden were they in color, eyes that now snapped at him and seemed to be attempting to weave a spell about his senses. "These are the eyes of an animal," he thought to himself, "of a lioness, and not a woman." Agrippa swallowed thickly and repeated his question. "Who are you?" _

"_My name is Mara, Milord, but that is not of importance to you." Mara leaned forward slightly, and braced her long brown hands before her on his desk. "I have some information that I know you will find most beneficial." Agrippa looked at her shrewdly; it was obvious that the woman was not wealthy, and it had been his unfortunate discovery that such women did not simply offer information for nothing. _

"_What price do you wish of me?" Mara uttered a raw growl that chilled the very marrow of the evil man. _

"_I wish only for revenge against she who has wronged me, Milord. That is all." Agrippa's mind whirled; never before could he remember being so bewildered! Perhaps, he thought as he gazed at the woman, those strange, cat-eyes were beginning to affect him…_

"_Well?" Mara's lips separated in a bone-chilling smile, and her eyes were alight with the monstrous happiness of retaliation. _

"_I have news of one called Calliliana, Milord; a woman you once knew I assume?" A shock of desire coursed through the veins of the general, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke. _

"_And what of her?" Mara threw back her hideous head and laughed then, a sound that seemed to freeze the hot blood of life within the body of Agrippa. _

"_She is with Child."_

_So simply, so simply were those words spoken that would decide the lives of many. _


	25. Chapter 25

5

_**Merry Christmas everyone! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and hope you enjoy this. It will get better I promise**_

_Calliliana massaged her temples with a sigh as she sat at her small dressing-table that night. "What a day it has been," she said quietly to herself, as she unbound the intricate coils of her golden tresses, "and how weary I am of all of this!" _

"_You should talk to a friend, Domina, and not to yourself. It is not becoming." Calliliana gasped in surprise as she caught sight of a black-clad figure reflected in her mirror, and she felt the heat rush to her face._

"_Who is…oh, it is only you, Mara. How you startled me!" The slave woman approached the maiden with a forced smile, and the startled girl could not help but think that in her black stola, and with the fierce cat-gleam in her golden eyes, the slave looked very like a specter of doom. _

"_Let me do that for you." With much swiftness and very little tenderness, Mara pulled the remaining pins from the girl's hair and tossed it over her back. She picked up an ivory-handled brush and roughly worked it through the densely flowing waterfall of gold, causing the maiden to squirm away in discomfort._

"_Thank you, Mara, but I believe I am quite capable of doing this myself." Calliliana wrested the comb from the servant woman's skeletal fingers, gently finished brushing out her hair, and wound it into a thick rope for bed. As she undressed with her back carefully turned, she cast furtive and uncomfortable glances at Mara, who stood watching with brazenly un-averted eyes and a nasty sneer upon her face. _

"_Perhaps you should eat more, Domina. The slenderness of your body puts to shame the wealth of the house of Milord Antonius—you look like more like a beggar woman than a friend! Calliliana blushed hotly at this. Even though she was several months with child now, only a small bulge appeared in her abdomen. The rest of her body remained slender and white as a lily-flower—that Mara should notice this and comment upon it made the girl uneasy. She did not deign to respond to the slave's comment, and made sure to wriggle all the more quickly into her sleeping garment and into her bed. _

"_Is that all you require for the night, Domina?" Calliliana stifled a yawn and nodded._

"_Yes, thank you. Goodnight Mara." The slave girl started to leave, then slapped her forehead in mock surprise._

"_Oh, but how could I fail to remember? My mistress sent you this, and her best wishes for a comfortable sleep this night." Mara produced a small wine goblet—which Calliliana failed to see why she had not noticed when she had first entered the room—and a rolled piece of parchment. _

"_Why?" The slave girl made her best effort to conjure a friendly smile._

"_Of course she would not explain her reasoning to me, a lowly servant girl! The answers you seek are all here," she tapped the scroll, "in this letter." Calliliana took the goblet, noticed curiously that it contained a small quantity of rich, red wine, and quizzically took the dispatch. _

"_Thank you, Mara. You may go." Perhaps the maiden would have been unnerved had she observed the ferocious gleam in the feline eyes of the slave upon being addressed casually as a servant—but so intent was Calliliana on reading the letter that Mara slipped from the room unheeded._

"My Dear Girl,

As you should know from past interactions with me, I am quite skillful with medicinal herbs and drafts. I know the pain that you are fighting at this time, and it is my sincerest hope that the contents of this goblet will help ease it in some way. Rest assured, my friend, it is not some vile potion to destroy that which grows within you—it is a simple sleeping draft that should relax you and prevent your fears from assailing you as you sleep. I trust that I shall find you in better spirits on the morrow, and I hope that this helps you in some small measure.

Your friend,

Sylvia"

_"Oh how wonderful!" Calliliana murmured to herself drowsily, as she imbibed the contents of the goblet in three large sips. "Perhaps now my thoughts and evil dreams will not torment me this night." She settled down upon her bed, and closed her eyes slowly, thinking kindly of her dear, kind friends as she did so. Her last cognizant thought was one of surprise as her half-lidded eyes rested upon the black figure of Mara re-entering her chamber. "I wonder what it is she 'failed to recall' this time?" she chuckled inwardly—before falling into a deep and dreamless slumber._

_"Oh Lord, have mercy upon this woman! Have mercy upon her child—and have mercy upon me!" Calliliana stirred restlessly, her mind wondering where she had smelt the distinctive scent of the perfumed linens resting against her cheek before. She tried to open her eyes, but she was still far too weary for a complete awakening. She lay back against the pillows with a languid smile—she was so warm and felt so wonderful, she did not know if she would ever wish to awake again…_

_But why was that woman—that keening voice in the background of her consciousness— praying…for her? And why was that woman wailing—it could not be for her, could it? The young beauty furrowed her brow in thought—now that her faculties were beginning to be restored, her mind kicked at her to remember the scent of the fabric swathing her. "Linen," she thought, as her fingers twitched over the material, "fine linen by the feel of it." She rubbed her face against it and pouted her lips in confusion. "Scented, I believe. Leander told me once that he knew a linen merchant from Egypt who would scent his linens before sell…"_

_Linen. Egyptian linen. Linens like those used by Marcus Agrippa upon his bed…the blood in the young woman's veins turned to ice, and her thought process simply ceased. "I cannot be there again—oh no, I cannot! Antonius would never allow it…" The girl breathed deeply, forcing herself to remain calm. "Of course I am simply being ridiculous. Antonius would never allow such a man to take me once more—he is quite especially fond of me, I do believe." She fingered the linens once more. "These must simply be a gift from Sylvia—yes, that is it!" Calliliana sighed audibly. "That must have been the reason I saw Mara slipping back into my room—she must have been ordered to surprise me while I slept!" With that cheerful thought in her head, and a renewed assurance in her heart, the girl fearlessly opened her eyes…And beheld the tormented face of Lavina staring back at her. Calliliana cried out and flattened herself against the wall behind the bed. "No, oh no, no, no…this is a dream is it not?" She stared into the slave woman's fear-filled orbs, as the tears sprang to her own. "Please…I beg of you, tell me this is a dream!" Lavina shook her head slowly, wetting the expensive bedclothes with her grief._

_"No, Domina. It is not a dream—you have been returned to the household of Marcus Agrippa, there to await the birth of his child." Calliliana felt the blood drain from her face. _

_"But how…how did he find me? What of those who protected me?" Lavina shuddered and moaned wretchedly._

_"That beast has ways of forcing all to bend to his will—no matter what the cost." A look of murderous rage filled the sea-eyes of the Greek woman._

_"Did he hurt them? If he did…" Lavina shook her head._

_"They have been told that you believed yourself to be a burden to them and in this time of your travail, you quietly quitted their house to find other lodgings." Calliliana was not prepared for this answer. Any other falsehood her benefactors would have seen through…but she had often told Sylvia what a burden she believed herself to be—and her kind friends might just believe this. _

_"Surely the master of the house will search for me?" she questioned brokenly. Again, Lavina made a motion of negation._

_"Agrippa has sent him elsewhere in the region—he will not return until well after the birth of your child. There will be no one to find you, no one to think of where you truly might be." Calliliana finally abandoned herself to a flood of hopeless tears, and felt the waves of desolation cast their shivering waters over her bruised and bloodied heart. _

_"But…but how could he know of my whereabouts?" The slave girl looked about fearfully, as if afraid that her master would materialize at any moment, then leaned close._

_"A woman came to see him just yesterday, Domina—a woman all garbed in black." Instantly, Calliliana's suspicions were aroused._

_"Did you see her face?" Lavina shuddered once more._

_"Horrible it was—a dead face it looked to me, with eyes like those of a tiger…" Calliliana buried her face in her arms and sobbed._

_"Oh Mara, Mara, why do you hate me so? What did I ever do to deserve such torment at your hands?" _

_"You tried to hide from me, my lovely little whore—and you attempted to keep the knowledge of our child from me. Those two actions alone require the most severe consequences." The two girls stifled screams and looked up to behold their tormentor standing in the doorway. He strode towards the sobbing Calliliana, gripped her by the hair, and forced her to look in his eyes. "However," he said, as he leaned his face closer, ever closer, to her trembling mouth, "I am prepared to forgive you if you bear me a son." In the midst of her fear, the girl was surprised to be able to find her voice and query,_

_"And if I do not?" Wordlessly, Agrippa painfully crushed his mouth against hers. The maiden pushed against him with her hands, but he caught them both in a grip so strong she feared she would faint from the pain. She writhed and struggled as she felt the sweet breath of life being stolen from her—if he did not move soon, she would faint from the lack of air! Agrippa continued to kiss her roughly, and the maiden's struggles became weaker and weaker until finally, the world swam darkly before her eyes. The soldier relinquished his tight hold on her with a laugh, and tossed her limp body back upon the bed. _

_"Let her lie!" he shouted, as he observed Lavina creeping towards the unconscious girl. "She is being punished for her misdeeds—punishment you should well recognize by now."_

_"But Milord," the girl ventured tremulously, "the babe within her needs air as well…" Agrippa brutally backhanded her across the face._

_"Do not tell me what is best for my own child!" he shouted, his voice causing the rafters to ring with his ire. "I shall do as I please, with her and with any other woman." _

_"Y-yes, Milord," the girl sobbed, as she covered her bruising face with one hand. She tensed as she felt her master prepare to propel her from the room and scurried away before he could lay a hand on her once more. After gazing upon the senseless beauty, her face as white as new-fallen snow, the general chuckled mirthlessly and left the room—leaving Calliliana to dream of a sojourn to hell as she slept in the bed of the devil._


	26. Chapter 26

**Hey everyone! Hope you all had a Merry Christmas. This is a longer chapter than usual, hope you don't mind. ******

**It is pretty dark near the end, but it will only give you one MORE reason to despise Marcus Agrippa…as if you needed one lol. **

**Enjoy! **

"_Mara, come here immediately!" At the sharp sound of her mistress's voice, the slave woman nearly dropped an expensive vase that she held. _

_"Yes, Domina?" she asked, almost timidly, as she noticed the look of surprise and consternation on her mistress's face. "What…what has happened?" Wordlessly, Sylvia let fall a yellowed piece of parchment to the tiled floor. _

_"This letter…Calliliana…she has left us." Mara successfully mastered the small smile that crept unheeded and undesired to the corners of her down-turned lips as she took the missive daintily between two fingers and perused its contents._

"My Dear Friends,

You cannot know with what joy I have received the many kindnesses which you have afforded me in this time of my trials. From the moment I met you, I never lacked for love or friendship—you brought me the only peace I have known in many months.

I fear that it is time for me to take my leave of you now, however—I cannot bear to be a burden to you any longer. This child that grows within me will certainly present more troubles for you than I care to contemplate—and I will not have you put to any further inconvenience. I know without a doubt that I will miss you dearly, for I already love you both as my own family. You are, in the truest sense of the words, the brother and sister I never was given.

Please do not come searching for me; I shall be alright. I am young and strong and able of mind and body, and I am sure that I can easily find work while this child is not yet too cumbersome.

I thank you again for all that you both have done for me. Rest assured that my love is with you, that I will miss you, and that I shall remain

Your friend,

Calliliana Maximinus."

"_What think you of that?" Sylvia asked brokenly, unashamed of the tears that splashed down her bronzed cheeks. Mara snorted and bowed her head in order to hide the unearthly gleam from her golden tigress-eyes._

"_I think, Domina, that she is very ungrateful to you and Milord Antonius." Sylvia shook her head._

"_Not ungrateful, confused. She knew that we would help her care for her child, yet she felt that she could not burden us further with her troubles…" The lovely young woman sighed and added quietly, "my brother was even going to take her to wife…" Anger exploded in the brain of the slave-girl, anger and hatred unlike anything she had ever known before. Yet, in the midst of her fury, there was happiness as well—had she not gotten rid of the imposing beauty, her master would likely have wed her soon enough to cover her shame. _

"_Perhaps it is for the best. She was not like you, Domina, and not like my master. I know of her secrets, and deadly they were…" Mara uttered the careless words before she could snatch them back; she could have cut out her tongue with fury when she saw a suspicious gleam of understanding dawn in the tear-filled eyes of her mistress. With one fluid motion, she darted forward and grasped the edge of the slave woman's stola in her long-fingered hands._

"_What do you know of her disappearance, Mara?" The servant did not tremble; boldly she faced the accusing eyes of her mistress._

"_I know nothing, Mistress." Sylvia twisted her hands in the coarse fabric of the stola, causing it to bunch and squeeze uncomfortably around the young woman's neck._

"_I shall ask you again. It is obvious to me now that you know more about our mysterious young comrade then you let on…"_

"_I am sure that I do not know what you mean, Domina…" Mara choked as her garment transformed into a noose under the powerful hands of her mistress. Sylvia looked deep within her eyes, attempting to descry any flicker of doubt or fear hidden within their golden glow. _

"_You know that my brother is now away from Rome, Mara; you know that he cares deeply for any woman in pain. He alone would have saved you from my wrath if what you say proves false. I shall ask you once more, and finally: what do you know of the disappearance of Calliliana?" _

_Of course Sylvia could not have known it, but her words only further strengthened the resolve of the hateful woman before her. By first speaking of the intentions of her brother towards the beautiful Grecian maiden, then by switching it around to convince Mara of his care for all women—the mistress had at last given the slave hope for what she desired the most. Ugliness and hatred in its bitterest form faced desperation and loveliness fearlessly, and their eyes met. _

"_I know nothing." Sylvia wrenched her hands away from the slave woman's stola, and covered her face with them as sobs shook her slender body. Mara stumbled awkwardly for a few moments; the breath of life was slow in once again filling her atrophied lungs. "I am sorry for your loss, Domina. Is there anything that I can do?" The young woman lifted a tear-stained face to her slave, her lips trembling._

"_Forgive me for my cruelty. I did not mean to hurt you…I was just so desperate for answers…" Mara stepped behind her mistress and gently massaged her shaking back._

"_It is forgotten. Come," she placed her hands lightly under the quaking arms of her lady and guided her towards her chambers, "you need rest. It has been a trying day for you, Domina…" When Sylvia nodded in acquiescence and slumped wearily into the arms of her slave, Mara knew that her work was complete; she had won._

_Calliliana was gone forever from the house of Antonius and Sylvia._

_Her master—and the heart of her master—were now free. _

_The tigress had warred against the doe and was now feasting upon her tender flesh._

His touch was so gentle. So caressing. So filled with love, and the strongest desire…

His arms wrapped tenderly about her waist; his lips drew close to hers and hovered above them. "I love you," he breathed upon her, the heat of his breath causing tiny shivers of delight and yearning to flutter through her body. She wove her hands through his curling hair, closed her eyes, and waited…

The feel of his hands upon her body were rough now; no where near the gentle caressing desire that they had held before. She felt as if her hips would burst as he kneaded them brutally; she wished that she could cry out to relieve the pain of his touch. Her eyes snapped open in shock—wherefore would her Leander, her gentle, loving Leander, treat her so?

The face above hers was no longer that of her husband, but the demon-visage of Marcus Agrippa. She opened her mouth in a soundless cry of horror as he threw back his head and roared…roared like a lion about to devour his pray…

_Calliliana awoke to the rousing chorus of her own cries of terror. With trembling hands, she searched the bed upon which she lay for her husband's body; she tried desperately to find his arm to drape it over her shaking shoulders. It was then, as she realized that she lay alone, that the horrible memories accosted her dizzied senses and wove their potent webs of pain about her mind like so many venomous spiders. _

_Her husband was no more. _

_Her friends knew not where she had been taken._

_She was little more than a prisoner in the house of the man who had stolen her innocence._

_She was with child…with HIS child…_

_The maiden bowed her head and wept bitterly, for nothing in that moment could assuage the pain that coursed through her—pain of both mind and body. She hoped against hope that Marcus Agrippa would take pity upon her in her state of pregnancy and would leave her for the time being…but what would occur after the birth of his child? A sickening thought hit her mind with as much force as a blow as she recalled that she _was_ a slave—Leander had purchased her and restored her freedom to her—but her cruel tormentor had only to say the word, and she would be helpless once more. "I am Rome," she recalled him saying, with a nauseating sense of dread…and what Rome decreed for her subjects, no man on earth could alter!_

_Except one of course, the One who had died and had risen years ago to save mankind from the clutches of all tyrants. Calliliana felt tears rise to her eyes as she thought of how long it had been since she had last called upon Him to aid her in her troubles…_

_The door to the room opened at precisely that moment, before the words of a prayer could even form upon her lips. The frightened woman clutched the bedclothes against her chest, praying fervently that her kind benefactress had found her once more…_

"_Are you…are you alright, Domina?" the voice of a maiden, whispered tenderly in the dark. Calliliana strained her eyes in the gloom, attempting to descry the speaker—when the flare of a lighted candle burst its brightness upon her eyes. She blinked against the sudden shock of light momentarily, then was able to discern the slender form of Lavina coming towards her with a thick tallow candle. "Do you require anything now that you are awake?" Calliliana groaned and rubbed her forehead._

"_Water please…I need water." Lavina nodded and moved towards an earthenware pitcher that she had brought; as she turned Calliliana observed a furious bruise upon the side of her face, lividly brought to light by the candle she held._

"_Did he…did he do that to you?" she whispered quietly. The slave girl looked startled, then quickly covered the mark with her hand._

"_Forgive me I…I did not know that you could see that…" The pregnant woman rested her head back against the pillows and heaved a weary sigh._

"_Has he hurt you much?" She heard the sound of water being poured, and realized with a start just how long it had been since she had had something to drink. As soon as the goblet was placed into her hands, she sought its rough rim with her lips and hastily imbibed its contents. Lavina sighed as well, and perched carefully on the side of her bed._

"_I will not lie to you. He uses me almost every night now, and he has for months." The slave did not make mention of the fact that she had willingly sacrificed her innocence for Calliliana; she did not want to upset the frightened girl again. "It is my hope that I may provide some distraction for him while you are in this state…" The Grecian woman shook her head, loose golden curls swaying about her face like the shredded petals of a sunflower._

"_I will not have that, my friend." Lavina tucked her feet delicately beneath her, wincing sharply at the pain as she did so. She seemed to hurt all over now…_

"_It is up to him, I suppose. We have no say in the matter. I believe, I truly believe, that we reside in the house of the devil. We live in hell." Calliliana leaned forward and tenderly took the hands of the young woman._

"_There is one greater than the devil, Lavina, one who has triumphed over hell." To her dismay, she heard the other girl give a strangled sob._

"_I used to believe that, I used to believe that there was a God. I no longer do…where is He now? Surely he would favor his people; surely he would save me from my disgrace…"_

"_You it was who told me to have faith after I was abused, my friend. Take courage, and take comfort. I have heard it said that the timing of God is not our own...perhaps he has some great plans yet for Marcus Agrippa…"_

"_And what plans might those be?" Lavina felt her young friend's grip tighten convulsively upon her hand as the man in question strode into the room. To her surprise, Calliliana began to speak softly, her voice as low and as frightened-sounding as the chirp of a bird before a tempest._

"_Plans to give you hope and a future, Milord. That is what the God of our faith has declared for all on this earth." Marcus looked momentarily stunned—that this woman, this frail little woman, would dare to utter the words of the Christian Scriptures under his roof, when she knew full-well what befell the followers of the Christ…_

"_What did you say?" his voice was as deep and as menacing as the thunder that suddenly rumbled deep in the south. Lavina bit her lip and gazed as her friend in awe and terror, for she knew not what she had just done._

"_You…you heard me, Milord. Though you have done great evil, there is yet hope for you. Our God is not willing to cast you aside just yet—one such as you has the power to do great good upon this earth and achieve great things for the good of all!" Marcus tilted his head on one side as if thinking. Did he not remember hearing such things as a young boy, so many years ago? That there was a will for him on this earth greater than any he himself could conceive of or achieve? _

_The general shut his eyes momentarily and took stock of what he now was: a fearless general in the army of the Emperor Commodus of Imperial Rome—yet he felt no loyalty. _

_He had led many victories and had suffered no retreats—yet he felt no peace. _

_He had bedded many women—yet he felt no love. What, then, was he missing? Was he outside of the will of a Greater Power?_

_Lavina's eyes widened as she observed her master. She had expected him to drag the courageous girl from her bed and beat her…or worse…but he actually appeared to be taking her words to heart. _

"_And how would you know this?" Calliliana shut her eyes and breathed deeply, praying for the strength to go on._

"_I thought that I was lost when first I landed on these shores. I was young and naïve and horribly frightened; I was sold as a slave Milord!" Marcus felt his body tense with desire when he heard her words. So _that_ was her secret! She was not some high-born lady of Greek nobility who had married a wealthy Roman…she was a slave. A simple slave who had been…_

"_I was ransomed, Milord, ransomed by a man who taught me to love him and how to love. He saved me not only from a life of pain and degradation, but also from that which I was planning—I had determined that if I was sold as a slave, I would slay myself before any man could lay a hand upon me. I know that if it had not been for Le—for my husband—I would be a dead woman now." Lavina's breath caught in her throat as she observed a look of pure hatred fill the doubting eyes of Marcus Agrippa—Calliliana could not know it, of course, but by speaking of her husband once more, she had destroyed any hope of winning Agrippa to her cause. She had sealed her own fate with her reckless words. _

"_Get up." Calliliana raised her eyes from the bedclothes, where they had been stubbornly fixed during her speech, and tilted her head._

"_Milord?" Lavina risked a glance at her master and fear filled her heart as she saw that any flickers of mercy that had been dancing about in the hell-fires of the man's eyes had now been extinguished. She jumped away from the bed as Agrippa roughly tore the blankets away from the brave young woman and jerked her from the bed. _

"_I will teach you to be so foolish as to speak the words of the Christians in my house, you little whore. Before this night is over, you will regret what you have said!" Fear filled Calliliana's eyes, and she attempted to fall to her knees in supplication._

"_Please, please I meant no harm…spare me, I beg of you. Milord, spare your child!" A mirthless smile stole its way across the storm-cloud face of the general as he beheld the beautiful girl, quaking on her knees before him. He ruthlessly yanked her to her feet by the roots of her hair, ignoring her sharp cry of pain._

"_I will not violate you this night, idiot, and not for some time to come apparently." He flicked his hand at Lavina, who cowered farther back into the deep shadows of the room. "That is what _she_ is for." Water tossed about in the emerald seas of Calliliana's eyes as she contemplated the fate of her friend._

"_What…what of me?" she whispered fearfully, terrified witless to hear of her own punishment. Marcus grinned as he roughly shoved her from the room._

"_Let us just say that your back will be so ravaged, you will be sleeping on your face for weeks to come." As the horror of what he was saying dawned upon her, the maiden cried aloud in panic and fear. _

"_Spare me, I beg of you…spare your child…" her sobs were lost to the listening ears of Lavina as she was dragged away from the room. The slave girl fell to the floor, her anguished face bathed in tears. _

"_Oh Lord in heaven," she whispered, as she heard a piercing cry echo throughout the villa of her master, "give her strength! Stay his hand, or at least let her fall into a merciful sleep...take pity upon her!" Lavina knew then, that if her friend could endure her torment and still speak of her God with faith and with dignity, then she could do so as well. She would watch, oh yes she would watch, and see if the maiden's faith sustained her…and if it did, then she could believe in God again as well._

_For the first time in many weeks, a small flicker of hope began to burn brightly in her tarnished soul._


	27. Chapter 27

Hey guys! Sorry this chapter has been so long in coming. I tried to make it longer (and flash back to Calliliana's fate) but I couldn't quite seem to make that sound right. So I will have that for you in the next chapter.

Enjoy!

_Marching, marching, always marching…it seemed to the weary group of soldiers that never before had they been forced to march so far, and for so long a time. The golden sun was now perched so low in the west it appeared as if it was soon about to descend into oblivion. As their fatigued muscles cried out for succor, every man wished as one that the sinking sun would give their commander reason to let them rest for the evening…_

"_Alright men, we shall make camp here for the night!" Groans of relief echoed throughout the twilight as the men gratefully unshouldered their supplies and began to do as they were bidden. One soldier, a handsome young man somewhat slighter than the others, heaved a great sigh as he watched his comrades at work. _

"_What ails you, Antonius? You have been moaning all day…" A burly soldier guffawed and elbowed the first speaker._

"_Like as not he is thinking of some pretty woman now, hey lad?" As the two men chuckled to themselves, Antonius willed the hot blush creeping up over his face and neck to set like the stubborn sun. _

"_Stop this foolishness." This comment only made the men laugh the harder; wordlessly Antonius snatched up his bedroll and victuals and made his camp farther away from the others. He lay down upon his worn blanket, trying to ignore the sharp rocks that pressed themselves through the thin fabric, and concentrated on the stars emerging above. "It is said that you can read a man's fortune in the stars," he mused to himself, as he slowly watched the heavenly bodies blink their fierce magnificence in the darkening sky. "I wish that I could know just what it is that lies in store for me…"_

"_Have you tried asking, young friend?" Antonius started up at the sound of a deep voice; he had thought he was safe from all prying ears here in this more private place._

"_Who are you?" the stranger sat down beside him, and immediately the young soldier grew uneasy. The man beside him was certainly no soldier at all; instead of a chiseled breastplate and crimson cape, the man was garbed in a thick black cloak that covered him from head to toe, and completely obscured his face. _

"_A seeker, some call me. I have traveled far and wide in these past few months, seeking that which is most dear to me." Antonius scrutinized the man's hooded face._

"_And what might that be?"_

"_Information, my friend. News of what is going on in this wide, rapidly changing world of ours is more precious to me than any amount of gold or silver on this earth." The stranger turned so that he faced the young soldier, and Antonius could see the reflection of the stars in the man's glistening eyes. _

_"What kind of information is it that you seek?" The man chuckled mirthlessly, fidgeted under his cloak for a moment, and produced a yellowed roll of parchment before the curious eyes of the confused soldier._

_"I am an executor of sorts, my lad; those who are too poor to hire great men come to me. I do what I can for them, although I daresay I am not always successful. Would you do me the honor of looking through this scroll and telling me if you have ever heard tell of the names on it?" Antonius nodded agreeably and took the paper; he nearly dropped it when he read the names upon it._

_"C-Calliana M-M-Maximinus…yes, I…" he cleared his throat, "I know her." The hooded man nodded and took the parchment away from his confused comrade._

_"That indeed saves me much trouble. Just how do you know this woman?" Antonius gulped; for no reason in particular, he was becoming uncomfortable with this peculiar visitor of his. _

_"She is a…a handmaiden for my sister." _

_"Is she well?"_

_"I have not seen her for a few days, but I believe that she is." The hooded stranger nodded again and stood, his powerful frame blotting out the sparkling diamonds of the night sky._

_"That is good news indeed. Her late husband, Leander Maximinus, commissioned me to inform her of the terms of his will." Antonius started in surprise._

_"I understood that her late husband was a man of great wealth. Why then would he choose you as an executor?" The stranger laughed, a peculiarly lifeless laugh, and turned to face his companion._

_"How much do you know of young Maximinus' fate, lad?" Antonius shook his head in negation._

_"Only that which his wife told me, and that which I could glean from others who knew the situation." _

_"Then you know that he was a wealthy man indeed…at least until Marcus Agrippa of the Emperor's army had him imprisoned without trial. Maximinus had a suspicion that the man was after his wife and his wealth, so he chose me," here the man bowed flamboyantly, "to look after his affairs. By using an obscure executor, such as myself, he could be assured that his enemy would have no way of tracing the whereabouts of his fortune." _

_"Then he left everything…"_

_"To his wife, yes. Young Calliliana is a wealthy woman indeed, my good lad." Antonius sighed audibly and rubbed his hand across his brow._

_"I regret very deeply that I cannot give her this news myself. I have no idea how long this journey is to be."_

_"Where are you to be stationed?" The young soldier stood, ignoring the sharp pricks of soreness that invaded his muscles, and shrugged his broad shoulders._

_"Gaul, I believe. I was sent for so hurriedly, I had not much time to bid my sister farewell or even give her any news of my future whereabouts—and certainly no time to tell Calliliana that I had to depart." Antonius strode forward until he was shoulder to shoulder with the executor; the two men stared out at the night sky. While their eyes were emotionless, their minds sparked and raced with the fires of curiosity. Finally, the cloaked man tilted his head down to meet the eyes of his young companion._

_"Is the wife of Maximinus still residing in your house?" Antonius attempted to descry the color of the stranger's eyes—but he could only see the blinking star-lights reflected in their mirror like depths._

_"Of course." The man nodded brusquely, and laid his hand on the soldier's shoulder._

_"Then I thank you very much for your information. I will go to the woman as fast as my expensive mode of travel permits," here he pointed at his feet, "and make her aware of her great fortune." Antonius nodded in agreement, and offered the mysterious visitor his hand._

_"I am sure that she will be glad of it." As the outsider took his hand and delivered a hearty shake, the young man added, "and perhaps, you will tell me your name before you leave? I will send word to my sister of your arrival, that she may have a comfortable room ready for your use when you arrive." Almost instantly, the young man felt the hand of his new acquaintance flinch within his grasp._

_"I am called many names, by many people. You may tell your sister that Vitus comes to see her young friend." And then, almost as instantly as he had appeared, the man vanished once more into the darkness. _

_Antonius lay back down upon his uncomfortable blanket, folded his arms behind his head, and contemplated the glowing stars once again. "Vitus, his name is," the lad mused to himself, as he felt his eyelids grow heavy with slumber, "Vitus, which signifies life. Life, then, is coming to visit Calliliana once more."_

_But in his deliberations, the young man realized that the stranger, shrouded in his black cloak as he had been, would have been better served by another name. _

_A name that meant Death._


	28. Chapter 28

5

She was on a ship.

Not a great ship and not a strong one, but a ship nonetheless. She stood with her back to the wind and in her face the brackish breeze blew. She lifted a clammy hand to her eyes and tried to shield them against harsh sea-wind; tried to see where she was destined. She felt in her heart, deep within her being, that she was escaping someone…that somewhere not so very far behind, something…or someone…terrible pursued her.

At that very moment, the wind died, and the small boat stopped dead in the water. Its sails hung in wet limpness about the soaking mast like the ghosts of drowned sailors, and she shivered at their appearance. She looked behind her…alas, another ship, a black and terrible ship, was coming closer!

Frantically, she dashed towards the helm. Her mouth opened in a soundless cry; there was no other aboard her vessel! She grasped the saturated wheel with sweaty hands and tried to pull the boat around…to no avail. She was powerless against the current.

Closer, ever closer, the black ship came. She saw its sails, red sails like the burning fires of hell, alight against the darkening sky. She saw the creature at the helm, but her fearful heart knew not what it was.

The body of a great and powerful man it had, yet its head was that of a bird of prey. It opened its sharp beak and roared at her…roared like a lion…and she covered her ears against the sound. As the creature prepared to board her vessel, she readied herself to jump from her own ship into the swirling black waters below. At just that moment, however, the greats finned beasts of the deep, their ponderous maws gaping death, appeared near the surface of the water. She cried out in terror; she knew not which death to choose…

At just that moment, the beak of the terrible monster closed itself upon her back. Pain, pain, great pain like the swelling of a black sea that would never, could never ebb dulled her senses. The beast roared in blood-lust as it ripped its mouth from her wounded back, only to close in upon it once more. She struggled, she fought, but the monster would not loose her. She was being eaten alive, and all she could do was scream her agony to the heavens…

_It was the sound of her own cries that awoke Calliliana from her painful slumber, that and the fire-lash of pain spreading over her back. She opened her eyes and attempted to turn over, but was stilled by soft, strong hands._

_"Hush, Calliliana, hush. It is I, Lavina." The maiden covered her face with her hands and wept, wept with relief that she was not alive in her nightmare, and wept with fear that she was still in the house of Agrippa._

_"W-what h-happened?" she hiccupped softly, trying to wipe the crystalline tears from her face. Lavina gently turned her over on her stomach once more._

_"You spoke bravely to the devil, Calliliana, and he sentenced you to torment. You were flogged for your courageous words." The slave girl moistened her hands and applied a cooling mixture of herbs to the ravaged back of her lovely friend, wincing at the sharp cries of pain the ministration elicited. "With careful tending, the scars from your punishment should be minimal. But there will be marks, my dear." Calliliana nodded and bit her lip against the agony._

_"How is that I do not remember it, Lavina?" The slave girl swallowed thickly before she answered; the sight of the damage done to her beautiful comrade was enough to raise the bile to her throat._

_"You were senseless when he brought you back to your chambers and bid me tend you. It seems that you lost consciousness half-way through your ordeal…" Calliliana shuddered as the memories finally accosted her senses…memories of sadness, pain, humiliation…_

_"I remember now. I do not think I could have spoken so bravely if I would have known what would happen to me…" Lavina breathed deeply before she worked the ointment into the tender, torn skin of her companion, and wished that she could shut out the tortured sob of pain which filled her ears. _

_"Do you now still believe in your God, Calliliana?" she questioned softly, after letting the woman weep quietly for a few moments. "After what was done to you this night…do you still believe?" The woman was silent for so long, Lavina feared she had fainted from the pain of her ministrations. At long last Calliliana spoke; in a voice so lifelessly hushed her companion had to bend close to hear it._

_"It was not God who caused this to happen, Lavina."_

_"Could he not have stopped it?" The young woman hissed sharply as her friend began to work more medicine into the bloody flesh of her wounds._

_"Yes…he could have. But suppose there is some lesson I must learn through my trials…if he would have stopped my punishment, would I have then learned it?" Lavina was silent. _

_"I swore to myself that if your faith in the Christian God was unshaken after what you endured, I would have faith once more as well—I had given up, you know. The pain I am forced to endure has broken me...broken me, Calliliana. But your courage this night…your faith…has shown me that God is present even in this hell we call home. If you can bear the trials that accost you…then so can I." Calliliana sighed a shaking breath._

_"Then it has all been worth it. And perhaps this…this…was the reason I was made to suffer so." _

_It was with many tears—tears of pain wedded to new-born hope—that accompanied the two slave girls of Rome as they journeyed into a fitful slumber that night, clutched tightly in the protective solace of one another's arms._

_"Mistress, there is one here to see you." Sylvia focused hopeful eyes upon her slave._

_"Man or woman?"_

_"Man, Domina." All interest faded abruptly from the Roman woman's face; it was not her dear friend come once more to seek her companionship and succor. _

_"Did he state his business?" _

_"He did not." _

"_His name?"_

"_He is called Vitus, Domina." Sylvia sighed heavily and passed a hand over her paled brow._

_"Send him to me, Mara." The slave woman bowed and exited obediently, trying desperately not to let her mistress detect her curiosity. _

_"The man at the door is a most interesting personage indeed," she thought inquisitively. "I wonder what lies beneath that midnight cloak…"_

_"Well? Does your mistress wish to see me?" Mara jumped slightly, startled by the abrasive tone of the stranger's voice._

_"She does, Milord. Shall I show you in?" When the man nodded, or rather when the black hood of his cloak moved in acquiescence, the slave woman led him to where her sorrowing mistress sat by a garden fountain, her fatigued body supported by a cushioned divan. Ever mindful of her hospitality, however, Sylvia neglected not to rise and greet her guest, and remembered to send Mara for some refreshment._

_"Welcome to my house and that of Antonius, my brother. Do you wish to recline?" The man shook his head._

_"I thank you for your kindness, but that is not necessary. My business here is brief, and my time short." Sylvia did not hide her surprise._

_"You act as if what you have to tell me is of the greatest importance, Milord."_

_"You may call me Vitus, Domina. And yes, my news is of great import to one whom you know. I met your brother on the way to his deployment, Domina, and had with him a most interesting conversation regarding your recent resident…one called Calliliana Maximinus." The eyes of the dark woman jumped in her ever-whitening face._

_"News, news of Calliliana? Pray, Sir, do tell what these tidings may be!" The stranger flourished the will of Maximinus before the wondering eyes of his hostess._

_"This here is the will of her late husband, Leander Maximinus. As I am sure that she told you, Domina, he was a man of considerable wealth—and every last denarius of this fortune was left to his wife." Sylvia shook her head slowly, as if trying to make sense of the man's words._

_"But how will she learn of this good fortune, Milord? She is not here…"_

_"And you have not the faintest notion of where she might have gone?" Sylvia shook her head sorrowfully and slowly sank down onto her divan once more._

_"Calliliana was ever mindful of her position among us. While we felt as if she was one of our own—our sister even—she always felt as if she was a burden to us. When it became apparent that she was with child once more…"_

_"What did you say?" The Roman woman looked up in surprise. The sudden harshness in the man's voice startled her._

_"She is with child, Milord." The man rolled the parchment into a tight scroll once more, and placed it carefully within the folds of his midnight cloak._

_"I had understood from Maximinus that she was about to give birth to his child months ago. It is not possible that the child could have waited so long to…"_

_"That is because she does not carry the child of Maximinus. That child, his son, is dead." _

_"WHAT?" Sylvia's mouth dropped in shock as the mysterious stranger abandoned all pretence of solemnity. He strode forward and caught her upper arm in a grasp that was not cruel, yet firm in its potent strength. "What is it that you say? The child of this man is dead, and his wife is carrying the child of another?"_

_"Calliliana is no whore, Milord, and her son did not die naturally." Vitus released her abruptly and moved away, hands raised respectfully._

_"Forgive me, Domina. I did not mean to frighten you—but you must understand, this news of is of grave importance to me. If Calliliana Maximinus has indeed become the wife of another, she can no longer inherit the fortune of her husband…"_

_"She is not the wife of another, Sir, she was taken!" At her words, Vitus turned towards her slowly, and removed his ebony hood as he did so. Sylvia stifled a gasp as she gazed upon him; never before had she seen such a face in all of her life. _

_The man must have once been handsome; she had no doubt of that fact. The lines of his face and body were sharp and angular, and she could tell that his midnight covering hid a body of powerful strength. Although he appeared to still be fairly young, his pale face was traversed by care-lines, "like a road-map of sorrows," the young woman thought to herself. His eyes stood out in startling clarity against the pallor his skin; they were as bright blue as the sparks of flame that dance about the red tongues of a burning fire. "Yet not a pleasant blue," the woman reflected, as the man turned his gaze full upon her, "but a blue rather like the cold of ice on a harsh winter's day. A harsh color, that is what the eyes of this man are."_

_"I think that it would be wise of you to tell me everything that has befallen the young widow of Maximinus since his death, Domina. If she is not here, there may be a chance that she is with someone who is doing her great harm." Sylvia looked at the man curiously, amazed at his earnestness._

_"I am beginning to think that you are miracle from beyond the realms of this earth, Milord. I have been worrying myself ill over the fate of this girl, knowing what I do of her past. Will you swear to me that, if I reveal what she confided in me to you, you will aid her in whatever way you can?" The man bowed his head slightly and reverently rested his hand upon his heart."_

_"I swear it." So with much trepidation and great hope, Sylvia related the tragic history of the beautiful young woman to the mysterious man. _

_"Not Vitus shall I call you," the woman thought to herself, as she watched the ice-fires of the man's eyes blaze in rage against the maiden's tormentors, "for no life will you bring to those who have wronged this woman. Not Vitus shall you be now, but Vindex."_

_Vindex—the Avenger. _


	29. Chapter 29

_"Lavina!" the shrill cry of her companion woke the young slave from her tortured dreams._

_"W-hat…what is it Calliana?" she mumbled wearily, her hand chaffing at her sleep-cloaked eyes. She felt the small, cold hand of her friend find hers and clutch it tightly._

_"The pain, Lavina…oh! The pain!" The woman nodded soothingly and rose, fastening her robe more tightly about her as she went._

_"I will make you something to drink, my dear. You were flogged; the pain will be present for some time…"_

_"NO!" With a sudden movement that shocked the sleep-dulled senses of pitiable Lavina, Calliliana rolled onto her back and thrust her hips high into the air, as if trying to rid herself of some invisible attacker. "It is not…oh! It is not that pain…I can hardly feel that now…the child, Lavina, the child!" Lavina's mouth dropped in shock._

_"What do I do?" she cried frantically, as she dashed towards the sobbing young woman. Her eyes took in everything at once, yet nothing at all: the blood stains upon the bed where the wounded woman's back was pressed against it, the rolling of the girl's pain-filled eyes, the golden tangle of hair that lay overspreading the white pillow, the clutching fingers that reached for her…_

_"HELP ME!" Calliliana wailed, as another burst of pain caused her to try and emit the squirming mass within that was the seed of her tormentor. _

_"WHAT DO I DO?" Lavina shrieked. She was terrified almost past endurance; never before had she assisted in a birth. Calliliana whimpered softly and grasped for the bed with both hands._

_"You must watch for it. That was what was done before when I gave birth. The head must come first…"_

_"What is all this noise?" At that moment, Marcus Agrippa appeared upon the threshold of the room, his hawk-eyed face pregnant with fury. For the first time in her life, Lavina paid scant heed to her master as he strode forward and roughly gripped her arm. "Silence her!"_

_"Her pain is past my administrations. Her time has come Milord—the time for the child!" All color drained abruptly from the face of the centurion, and stark fear filled his eyes._

_"It is too soon," he murmured, as he drew close to the gasping woman, "she has many weeks yet before it should be her time…"_

_"I believe that she shock she was made to endure this night proved too much for her, Milord." Agrippa turned towards the slave girl, his white teeth bared in anger._

_"Do you dare charge me with this calamity?" Lavina drew herself up, and courage replaced the fear in her face._

_"I do." Wordlessly, Marcus struck his slave with all the force his strong, battle-seasoned arm could muster. She cried out and staggered back, covering her marked face with one hand. "Very well," she gasped, as she struggled to wrestle the tears into submission behind the floodgates of her eyelids, "very well, you might strike me for insolence. But that does not change the fact that this woman," here she was interrupted by a piercing shriek from Calliliana, "this woman is giving birth to your child! You must find a midwife, and that shortly!" Marcus Agrippa nodded, more to himself than to Lavina, and left the bedchamber at a run. _

_For the better part of an hour, the brave Lavina stood watch by the side of her friend. Though her ears rang with the force of the maiden's cries and her heart quailed within her, she refused to leave the side of Calliliana until the matronly midwife bustled into the room, her dark hair in disarray about her red face. "Clear the room," she panted, as she squatted down between the young woman's legs, "and get the man out of here!" Lavina did as she was told, knowing full well that the woman would very likely have lost her head if she had so disrespectfully referred to Marcus Agrippa at any time other than this. _

_Hours and upon hours passed slowly for the tortured woman and her companions. The midwife did what she could to aid Calliliana in her distress, but the child within her was as cruel as its father—it refused to come. Despite the ministrations of the professional and the agony of the mother, it was not until the morning sky was tinged with the red of dawn that the young woman finally gave up the burden of life within her._

_"A son!" shrieked the midwife, as the child finally slid from the maiden's bloody loins, "you have a son!" Calliliana stared straight into the distance—she did not wish to gaze upon the face of Agrippa's child. _

_"Calliliana, my dear, look at your little son," Lavina urged soothingly. She attempted to place the child into the limp arms of her friend, but she pushed her away._

_"My son is dead, Lavina. My son was the son of Leander Maximinus who was and is my husband in the sight of God. This child…this _thing_…is not my son. And he shall never be so to me." _

_"But Calliliana…"Agrippa rushed into the room then, his steel-frosted ebony curls glistening with feverish dew in the morning light._

_"A son, you say? Let me see him!" Hastily, he took the bundled babe from the arms of his slave girl and peered within the blanket. The child was small, small indeed—too small to be strong for many years, thought the soldier. "Of course he is small," he reassured himself as he looked into the babe's blue eyes, "he was born before his time. He shall grow to be strong and brave, like his father…" The man gazed upon the tiny features, the curled fingers and waving legs, the howling mouth…_

_"Milord, he is choking!" Agrippa was startled from his contemplation of the boy by the shrill voice of the midwife. She snatched the babe from his arms and worked her hands over him, attempting to force life back within his breast. Agrippa watched in horror as the child ceased wailing, as his little face turned blue with the lack of air—though the man was a seasoned soldier and fearless on the battlefield, he knew not what to do in a time such as this. _

_"He is gone. He was born too early, Milord…" Agrippa turned towards Calliliana numbly, as if in a state of shock. She was lying still upon the bed, her collapsed legs and hips covered in her own blood, her shoulders and back a travesty where he had beaten her…_

_"What is it you say?" The woman met his eyes then, and there was that in her beautiful face that caused him to tremble._

_"The child is gone, Milord. See for yourself." Agrippa asked her not how she knew; in a panic he did as he was bidden._

_It was true._

_He cried out in a rage and struck the midwife across the face. "You whore!" he screamed; the green-blue veins knotted out from his reddened face, "you should have saved him!"_

_"I did all I could, Milord, I promise you!" Agrippa raised his hand to strike the frightened woman again, but let it fall slowly instead._

_"Get out." The woman gathered her things, but looked hesitantly back at him._

_"But Milord…the fee that is due me…"_

_"I SAID GET OUT!" The force of his ire caused the very rafters above the company to tremble. Without further word, the midwife and Lavina both scampered from the room like startled sparrows. Agrippa reached out and took up the body of his son in his arms. Without a glance at the woman who had endured such pain and degradation to bring his child into the world…he left the room. And he left her alone._

_Calliliana heard him leave. She heard him leave and she felt the blood flow between and down, down, down her legs. She felt a great sob well up within her throat; felt the tears well behind her disobedient eyelids._

_She turned her face to the wall and wept._

_And there was blood in the red-dawn sky. _

_"A moment, Milord." Vitus turned so see the angular slave-woman with the tigress eyes walking slowly towards him. _

_"How may I be of service?" The girl reached him and slowly, ever so slowly, reached out and put a work-roughened hand on his arm. _

_"You will pardon the intrusion into your affairs I trust," she began, her coarse voice vibrant with emotion, "but I heard you speak of the fate of the girl Calliliana." Vitus stiffened and drew back slightly; the touch of the slave-girl was as cold as that of death._

_"I should report you to your mistress for eavesdropping…"_

_"I know where she can be found!" The ice-blue eyes of the young stranger leapt within his marble-pale face; without meaning to, he grasped the woman's slender shoulders so tightly that she cried out with the force._

_"If that is indeed the case, then you must know from my conversation with your mistress that I am desperate to find Calliliana." Mara nodded, and carefully loosened herself from the man's vice-like grip._

_"I do." Vitus passed a shaking head over his sweat dampened brow._

_"This is of grave importance to me, Woman. Where is she?" Mara knitted her hands together, in a gesture almost of supplication as she gazed upon him._

_"She has returned to her home, Milord." _

_"You mean to the house of Maximinus?" A golden gleam dawned within the murky depths of the slave girl's eyes. _

_"No, Milord, to her home—to Greece." Vitus pressed his lips together tightly; Mara watched with something akin to panic as his great hands balled into fists at his side. _

_"Do you know how long ago she left?" _

_"It is where she went as soon as she left the house of my mistress. Calliliana and I were great friends, Milord, like sisters we were. She confided everything to me; she told me that she did not wish Domina Sylvia to know of her whereabouts. She was tired of 'being a burden' she said, she did not wish anyone to find her…" Abruptly, Vitus withdrew two golden coins from under his cloak._

_"You have been most helpful, and for that I thank you." Mara folded herself into an awkward bow._

_"You are generosity itself, Milord. I would do anything to help my dear friend." The man threw the hood of his ebony cloak about his face once more, nodded to the informer, and left as abruptly as he had come._

_Mara stood still for a moment, allowing herself to bask in the glow of her brilliance. She had sent this man, this strange, powerful, vengeful man, on a fruitless hunt for her nemesis. "After all," she thought, as she fingered the two golden coins slowly, "he will be so far gone when he knows that she is not truly in Greece that he will never come to hunt for me…"_

_Slowly, she dropped the gold onto the tiled floor, piece by shining piece. She watched as they spun quickly on their sides, wheeled crazily about the room for a moment, then slowly faltered and fell. "I do not need his gold," she mused, as she strode purposefully from the room, "for I have had a reward far greater: I have sent away the only one who may have helped poor little Calliliana!"_

_And for the second time in a short while, the twisted laughter of the evil woman echoed through the hall._


	30. Chapter 30

Hey everybody

Hey everybody! Thanks for the reviews and please keep them coming! It's a great encouragement to me. School is over for me now, so hopefully I will have more time to update and finish this book!

This chapter really introduces a new twist—try to keep up!

_For many weeks after the death of the child, Marcus Agrippa could not bear to have Calliliana in his sight. This pleased the young woman well indeed; she had time enough now to spare during the long, listless days in her captor's prison. _

_The young woman took to traversing the many rooms of the villa, her sad, slow step always whisperingly preceding her on the tile floors. She shied away from all save Lavina and her kind friend Appius, who always had a gentle word to say to soothe her aching heart. _

_"Death," she whispered to herself sadly one afternoon, as she traipsed through the many halls of the house, "death comes to all and all come to death. It should be beautiful, I think, to be dead. Death reunites those who have perished apart—it heals breaches of trust, love, and honor. It punishes the unjust, and rewards the righteous. Yes, yes indeed, death must be a welcome savior to this life…"_

_"What do you speak of, Darling?" Calliliana turned abruptly, her green eyes wide with surprise, to behold Lavina gazing upon her, a troubled light in her eyes._

_"I was only wishing, my friend. That is all." The slave girl bit her lip and tears filled her eyes._

_"I did not think it possible that you could be more anguished than you were before. Yet now, now a sadness not of this world seems to fill you—ever since the death of that little babe." Fury filled the face of the maiden and she turned her back upon her friend._

_"Never speak of that thing again. I told you once, Lavina, and I shall tell you again—it was not my son. It was the seed of the devil's loins…and that is all. I am not glad of its death, that is certain…" an uncanny fire filled the maiden's sea-eyes, "…and yet…yet I would not have wished it to live. I could not have taken that child to my breast, could not have loved it, and could not have mothered it. It would not have had joy in this life." Lavina nodded slowly and wiped at her eyes._

_"We shall speak of this no more. Come, Dear, Agrippa is not in the villa. Will you not join Appius and myself for some refreshment?" Calliliana looked at her without understanding, as if the words spoken to her were in another language._

_"I do not wish food, thank you." Lavina frowned and took the maiden's hands in her own._

_"You have not eaten anything since yesterday morning, Calliliana, and even then it was only a small piece of dry bread. You must eat; you must keep up your strength…"_

_"WHY?" Calliliana wrenched herself away from the touch of her friend, and placed her hands on her brow. "WHY SHOULD I EAT? WHY SHOULD I KEEP UP MY STR…" her voice broke in a sob in the middle of her scream. The tormented girl wrenched her hands through her golden hair, her face wet with the tears of her anguish. "Do you see me now?" she gasped, turning wide, hysterical eyes upon the now-frightened slave woman. "Do you see this face? These eyes? They appear the same to you and the world as they were before. My mind, however, you cannot see…and thank God for that! He has damaged me, Lavina, damaged me past all bearing and endurance. I feel as if I have no mind anymore…the kindness and love in my heart has been shattered and turned to hatred…"_

_"What of your God, Calliliana? It was you who encouraged me in the bitterness of my anguish and despair; it was you who taught me how to hope again…"_

_"WHERE IS HE THEN?" shrieked the girl. She fell to her knees upon the cold tile floor, ignoring the sharp pangs of agony that the action instigated. She could not speak for a few moments, a few wretched moments as she let the tears of distress course down her face. "F-forgive me," she whispered brokenly. "But I am now where you were before—I doubt, and I have no hope." The face of Lavina fell tragically, and she stepped away._

_"Then it is now I who must pray for you, my friend." Calliliana covered her face as if ashamed of her outburst._

_"You are welcome to do so…if you think it will be of any good. I have been tested, Lavina…I have been 'refined by fire'. And I have not come through the fires unscathed." She stood then, and turned her back upon her loving friend once more. "Leave me be, I beg of you. I must go and collect myself." Wordlessly, Lavina nodded and slowly left the side of her anguished companion._

_"Do not think," Calliliana whispered to herself fiercely, as she entered the library-room of the villa, "do not allow yourself to think. It will only cause greater pain; greater heartache." She leaned her head against the bookshelves lining the wall and sighed. "Find something to read, try to relax…" It was at that moment, the shelves behind her fingers shifted slightly._

_The woman jumped away, startled, and looked at the wall in shock. How many times had she entered the library to find something to read…and yet only now did the wall move._

_"A door," she whispered incredulously, as the full meaning of the shifting shelves dawned upon her tormented senses like light smiting the eyes of a confined prisoner. "These shelves are a secret door…" Without stopping to think of the consequences, Calliliana leaned her full weight upon the shelves._

_With a rather quiet squeak of hidden hinges, the shelves turned, and the next thing the maiden knew she was lying upon a dusty floor. Slowly, painfully, she picked herself up and gazed about the room. The only light illuminating the place came from the opening in the secret door, so the girl had to squint to make out anything at all. As she walked slowly forward so as not to injure herself on anything the pall of darkness might be hiding, she descried a small parchment-covered table near the back of the room. "What can this mean?" she whispered softly, as she picked her way carefully towards the table, "Agrippa already has a study…what can be so secret that he keeps it here?" Her hands found the edge of the table, and she carefully gathered the musty-smelling parchments to her chest. The light was far too dim to read the spidery writing scrawled across the parchment, so she cautiously exited the secret chamber." Now," she whispered softly, as she slowly sank to the floor and spread the documents before her, "what can this mean?" _

_The first few parchments appeared to be pictorial representations of the interior of a large building. There were rooms that looked as if they were for sleeping, chambers that appeared to be fabulous bath-houses, and even one that seemed to be like to a large, central courtyard. Calliliana shook her head in confusion, and cast the first document aside to see if the others could provide more helpful information. "A beautiful edifice it is," she murmured softly, as she squinted her eyes at the infinitesimal writing lining the successive pages, "it looks almost to be a palace…"_

_And it was. The writing upon the other parchments confirmed that the first document was indeed a sketch of the palace of Emperor Commodus—a thorough sketch, with every room labeled and detailed. "A soldier of the empire is Agrippa," thought Calliliana, "and not a workman. Why would he possess such intricate knowledge of the palace?" Confused, she gazed intently at the diagram of the citadel once more—and noted a small, dark ink stain marking one of the rooms. _

_The woman peered closer, and saw that the room in question was large compared to the others, that it was comprised of a central room and many surrounding smaller chambers, and that it appeared to be very beautiful and intricate in design. The ceilings were high and vaulted; pillars lined the various smaller rooms of the inner chambers, and a tiny detail appeared to show where a luxurious bed would be positioned. As she gazed upon the splendor of the lovely pictured room, the maiden gasped. "Surely, a room such as this must be the sleeping quarters of the emperor!" Calliliana sat back on her heels, a frown creasing her white brow. Why ever would her master own something such as this…and why would a mark be made upon the Emperor's room? _

_The girl hastily gathered the papers once more and deposited them in the secret chamber. She rummaged through the others, unsure of what she was looking for, or even why she was searching for it. It was enough to the woebegone, lonely woman that something had at last taken her mind from her own troubles and given her an enigma to solve. _

_As Calliliana was about to seize the first parchment that she found next, her wandering hands fell upon a small bound book. She took it quickly and entered the library once more, hoping against hope that the book might provide some information she needed to solve the puzzle. _

_"Maius the thirteenth, in the first year of the reign of Commodus, Emperor of the Roman realm," she read, her voice low and quiet and her emerald eyes casting cautious glances about her as she did so. _

"_By the order of the Emperor I, Marcus Agrippa, have been sent from his side. I served his father well as did my father before me, yet the Emperor wished me instead to leave my men and my army and hunt for followers of the Christian sect."_

_Calliliana's breath came quickly, her face flushed, and she convulsively clenched the tablet to her chest. _

"_I departed as my orders dictated I must, but not without bitterness in my heart. I must respect a ruler in order to serve him, and respect I have none for the boy who now sits upon the throne of Rome. His father was, indeed, a true leader possessed of a brave and noble heart. His son is far too weak to rule the realm—thus it seems to me, and to others. By sending me from his side, young Commodus has unwittingly dug himself into an early grave. There are those who support me, who follow me—my men mostly, yet there are indeed others who find me to be a much more fit ruler than he who now wears the crown."_

_The young woman stood and let the book fall from her fingers. The soft noise it made as it fell to the floor seemed louder to her than the thunder of a summer storm, and she covered her ears in numb shock. "This is treason," she murmured thickly, as if barely comprehending what she had read, "and treason brings death! What am I to do with this information?" A thought, a horrible thought, suddenly filled the half-crazed mind of the girl. If Agrippa felt the emperor was too naïve to rule all of Rome; if he felt as if he himself would be a "much more fit ruler"…then how would he plan to dispose of the emperor?_

_She lifted the book once more and frantically looked through it—but the writing stopped abruptly after what she had read. The maiden flew into the mysterious chamber once more, threw the book on the table, and snatched up the sketch of the Emperor's bastion once more. "What does he plan to do?" she whispered, as her eyes rapidly flickered over the page, "how does he mean to depose the emperor?" It was then, upon closer observation of the diagram, that the girl noticed something strange—strange enough to make her gasp in shock._

_The large ink-mark upon the Emperor's bed-chamber was not, in fact, a mark._

_It was a sketch._

_A sketch of a set of bookshelves, near to the Emperor's bed—bookshelves alike to the ones concealing Agrippa's secret chamber. _


	31. Chapter 31

Hey everyone!

Sorry it's been so long! Lots to do. I just can't wait until I can, like Bilbo Baggins, "find a nice place to finish my book."

I'm turning 20 this Sunday so this next installment is my present to you. I really hope you enjoy the twists I added (and as a birthday present to me, please review! :P)

3

_A black figure strode purposely towards a small harbor, where several vessels were moored upon the golden sands. The day was fitting indeed to his mood; the clouds were as gray and rain-filled as was his mind with angst and turmoil. "Three weeks," he murmured angrily to himself, "three weeks it has taken me to secure passage to Greece…the wife of Maximinus could be anywhere, anywhere at all after such a time…"_

_"M-Milord?" Vitus, for it was indeed he, turned at the soft sound of a young woman's voice, close to his ear. He saw not a woman at all however, only a dark blue cloak shrouding a shivering form. _

_"Who are you?" The girl stepped forward and pushed back the hood of her cloak, revealing the face of a cherub, surrounded by masses of golden curls. _

_"At last, I have found you. My-my name is Albina, Milord." Vitus cast an impatient glace towards the harbor. _

_"I do not think that we have met, Albina. I am called…" The girl stilled his voice with a flick of her dimpled wrist._

_"You know me not, yet I know you. You are the avenger Vitus, and I have seen you—for I am a handmaid in the house of Sylvia…the villa where Calliliana Maximinus once lived. I serve alongside Mara, the woman who spoke last to you before you left." Vitus looked at the maid in bewilderment._

_"I see. Then…what business have you here?" Albina looked around furtively, as if afraid of who might be listening._

_"Can we go somewhere more discrete, Milord?" Vitus shook his head and started to move away._

_"I regret to tell you that I am about to depart for Greece, Albina. I have been purposing to leave for the past three weeks, due to the advice given by your friend, and have been unable to secure a passage…"_

_"Do not go!" Albina clutched fervently at the black cloak. "You must not, for she whom you seek is not there!" Vitus turned and gripped her by the shoulders._

_"Come." The tall man half supported, half dragged the maiden to a small shelter behind one of the boats, then bent down so he could be level with her eyes. "Now tell me, what is this you say?" Albina shuddered and hugged herself tightly against the wet, driving gale._

_"I know Mara, Milord. I have worked with her for the past few summers, and I know her to be a very serious creature. She has no passion for anything in this world—save for our master, Antonius." Vitus furrowed his brow._

_"What does this have to do with…?"_

_"Please, let me finish. Mara has loved Antonius and desired his love ever since I can remember. Oh, she tried to hide it from me—but I could tell. Milord Antonius found the girl Calliliana after the death of her husband, I was told, and brought her home with him. It was then the trouble began." The broad shoulders under the black cloak twitched._

_"Trouble?"_

_"I doubt you ever laid eyes upon Calliliana Maximinus, Milord—for if you had, you would not soon forget her face, and you would understand me when I say 'trouble'. A woman as beautiful as the stars, the sun, and the moon she is—I have never seen one like her. It was not long after her arrival before my master fell deeply in love with the woman. Mara saw this of course, and all the passion of her love for Milord Antonius was given in hatred to Calliliana…" Vitus' breath grew heavy and fast, so like an animal-pant it frightened the young woman._

_"Are you saying that this wench Mara had ought to do with her disappearance?" Albina bit her lip and cast down her eyes._

_"I believe so, Milord." _

_Calliliana pressed her cold hands against her brow and waited for her breathing to still once more. A secret shelf of books behind the emperor's bed…that would mean, perhaps, that a secret room was there as well…a room like to the one in Agrippa's library…_

_The woman stood slowly. After what she had read, after what she had seen, there was now no doubt in her mind but that the treacherous Marcus Agrippa meant to slay the emperor while he slept and usurp his crown. "But what can I do?" Calliliana whispered softly, as she rolled the sketch up and carefully concealed it beneath her robe. "How am I ever to give this to the emperor? How can I leave this place?" Another thought struck her then, one more terrible and powerful than the rest. "What if he does not believe what I tell him?"_

_That was a grave quandary, one which the maiden did not know how to surmount. Agrippa was trusted by the emperor…he might fashion some lie that would cast doubt on her story and remove her…_

"_Substantiation. Substantiation is what I must find!" Calliliana ran into the room once more and hastily bumped about in the darkness, trusting that her hand would fall upon something useful, something that she could use to prove the validity of her story to the emperor…_

_And then her ears discerned footsteps._

_With a smothered cry of terror she started back abruptly from the desk. A sickening feeling of dread swept the maiden as she felt her hasty fingers brush a small glass vial, and heard it crash to the floor. _

_The footsteps stopped. _

_Panting quietly now in her fear, Calliliana gathered what shattered remains of the glass as she could, noted with surprise that upon them remained a powdery substance, and thrust them within the folds of her stola. She slipped softly to the chamber door, saw no one without, and exited with as much of a show of serenity as she could. She closed the door gently, placed her hands upon the shelves as if searching for something to read…_

_"Here you are, Love." It was Lavina. _

_Calliliana sighed with relief and pressed a cold hand to her perspiring brow. "You startled me." The slave girl looked at her friend with tender concern in her eyes. _

_"Forgive me then. Come, Calliliana, I think you must eat something. Not much of course, only enough to…"_

_"Perhaps you are right, Lavina. I am rather fatigued." So saying, the girl allowed her friend to put an arm about her waist to support her. _

_"Oh!" The slave drew back in surprise, her head tilted quizzically to one side. "What ever are you hiding under your stola, Calliliana? I believe it just attacked me!" Lavina raised her hand curiously and both maidens saw a small trickle of blood flowing from her callused palm. _

_"F-forgive me, my friend," Calliliana stuttered in embarrassment, as she drew forth the shattered fragments of glass. "I dropped this vial in the…in the cucina a few hours ago. I didn't know what to do with it or how to repair it…" Lavina took the shards carefully, looked at them for a moment, then sniffed at them. She drew her head back abruptly and cast a bewildered glance at her comrade._

_"This vial contained finely milled mushrooms. I do not recall purchasing such a vial, Calliliana…I never cook with mushrooms. They are far too dangerous…"_

_"Dangerous?" Lavina was taken aback by the icy fire glowing within the emerald depths of the Grecian maiden's eyes. _

_"Yes, very dangerous…many species of mushrooms are poisonous. They slay their victim quickly…" _

_"I am sure that purchasing them was a simple mistake then," the girl said hastily, as she snatched the shards from her friend once more. _

_"Are you…are you sure that you are alright, Calliliana? You do not seem yourself…" The woman laughed bitterly as she tossed the golden sea of her hair behind her shoulder._

_"Am I ever truly myself anymore? Come. Let us forget this…perhaps some victuals are all that I need…" As the two maidens left the mysterious room, one thought and one thought alone played itself through Calliliana's mind like a beam of light to a dungeon-bound prisoner:_

_ She had her validation. _

_She had such fragile, such delicate feet that it was not difficult to discern which sandals she wore. The leather was fine and soft, and the cut of the little shoe was as dainty as the foot it was made to protect. She never dined with the sandals on her feet, as they bothered her while she reclined…she preferred instead to leave them lying within as she supped without in the lovely gardens. _

_She was doing so with her comrades when he noticed them lying there, so small and so perfect, "Like the woman who wears them," he mused to himself. He lifted one slowly and noted the delicate braiding of the gilded leather which formed the top of the sandal, the soft skin that was the sole…_

_The sole. His fingers brushed something rough on the bottom of the shoe, and he turned it over curiously. Little shards of glass, embedded as they were into the bottom of the shoe, caught the light of the dying afternoon sun and sparkled like the very treasure-vault of Caesar himself. He lifted the sandal, admired the beauty of the implanted glass fragments for a scant second, then smelt them…_

_The blood in the knotted veins of Marcus Agrippa began to boil, for then he knew what she had done. He knew what she had found. And he knew that she must pay for her discovery._

_ Oh yes…she would pay…_


	32. Chapter 32

Emily Fitzpatrick

_"Where is she?" _

_Sylvia looked up from her embroidery in surprise at the sound of the loud voice, echoing through the halls of her villa. She was just about to call Albina in to check the vociferous intruder when she beheld the black-robed Vitus striding purposefully into the atrium. He bowed his head respectfully to her, but continued to cast his gaze about him. "Where is the slave Mara, Domina? There is that which I must discuss with her…"Sylvia narrowed her eyes at him curiously. _

_"She is in the gardens, Milord. May I offer you…?" Before she could complete her request, the visitor had descended the marbeline steps to the gardens in a single bound and was approaching the tall slave woman._

_Mara was using a small, sharp knife to scrape weeds out of a bed when she felt strong hands grip her shoulders and lift her into the air. She writhed wildly and was about to angrily slap at her attacker, when her tigress orbs beheld the furious visage of the avenger._

_ Her heart sank._

_"Where is she, Slave?" Vitus' voice was quiet, deadly. For the first time since that wretched day when she stood naked upon the slave-block of Rome, Mara trembled in fear._

_"She has…has returned to Greece Milord…"_

_"You lie!" It was with difficulty that the strong man restrained his hands from dashing the shameful woman to the ground. "You indeed were involved in the disappearance of Calliliana Maximinus, were you not?"_

_"Oh!" Vitus and his prisoner turned at the sudden gasp to see Sylvia, standing white-faced upon the garden steps. "Mara, how could you? When I trusted you even as my friend…" Mara laughed then, a sound so horrible, so full of malice, and so hideously foreign to the onlookers as to smite their ears painfully. _

_"What do you wish me to say? That I had love for the wretched little whore?" Vitus did strike her then, but the ugly slave continued her mirthless howl. "Yes, I had ought to do with her disappearance from your house, Domina…and I am proud to tell of it!"_

_"WHERE IS SHE?" Vitus screamed, as the ice-fires of his azure eyes darted flame-bursts into the calm cat-eyes of the woman before him. Mara smiled at him then, a smile of such nether-worldly horror it seemed to freeze the very marrow in his bone—for she knew that she alone had the power to cease his questioning. Her work was finished, and in her twisted and evil way, she was at peace. Wordlessly, the slave woman tightened her grasp upon the sharp weeding-knife she held and drove it home to her breast._

_Sylvia cried out and darted forward as Mara fell, pierced by her own hand and as a ruby jet of blood streamed from her heart. She looked up at the mysterious avenger and her mistress, standing together over her with looks of dismay etched upon their countenances, and a last, bloody guffaw gurgled in her throat. _

_"You wish to know where the whore resides, do you?" she asked, as her red blood escaped from her lips and began to travel down her chin and over her white teeth. "I say only this—look for the slave in the house of her master." _

_"What do you mean?" cried Vitus…but it was too late. With a last spasm of her tight muscles and a shuddering groan that froze the blood of her mistress, the wicked Mara breathed her last. Vitus looked at the trembling Sylvia with shock in his frozen eyes. "I will bury this wretch," he said, as he took her arm and gently led her from the dismal scene before them. "But I must then go to finally find she whom I have sought for so long. This last bit of information from your slave may be what I need to avenge the poor wife of Maximinus at the last." Sylvia nodded numbly, and allowed the man to lead her back to her villa._

_She lay there in the midst of the gardens she had tended, watering the green earth with her own life-blood. Her muscular arms and legs were at odd angles to each other, and her brown hands had curved into sharp-taloned claws. Her black hair had come loose, and was spread mane-like about her lifeless face—her hideous, lifeless face that would have made even the bravest tremble in fear. Her lips were peeled away from her mouth in a death-snarl, revealing her sharp and blood-stained teeth. Her tawny skin was blue-white with the pallor of death—but even as it was for her in life, her eyes were the most fearsome part of her visage. _

_As wide-open, as sightless, and as golden-brown as those of a beast were they. They stared sightlessly up at the setting sun, which lit them with an unearthly, sepulchral glow…the glow of death. The tigress eyes of the slave girl matched her taloned, mane-encircled countenance in death perhaps better than they did in life—for in death at least, all are one._

_Not a woman, but a deadly lioness lay dead upon the ground._

_She had fixed upon that night._

_Calliliana knew that if she did not flee the house of Agrippa in the dead of that very night, she would never find the courage to do what she must. She had taken pains to preserve what shards of the mushroom vial as she could as proof—that and a faithful replica of the sketch of the palace that she had drawn from memory. If there was a God in heaven, she decided, the emperor would believe that which she told him. _

_She had bidden Lavina a good night, retired early, and spent the better part of four hours waiting and watching the darkening sky. As she waited, the woman had garbed herself in a thick black cloak, surreptitiously borrowed from Appius, to better conceal the beauties of her face and form and the glory of her golden hair. She had bound her small feet with strips of cloth so that they might be noiseless upon the tiled floors, and had carefully concealed her verification in the folds of the cloak. _

_When at last the night was dark enough, when no sounds save the humming of night-insects sang upon the wind and the silver moon was buried within the ebony shrouds of the clouded sky (for which she thanked God), Calliliana stole forth. Past the room of Lavina she crept, swearing silently to her friend that she would send help for her as soon as ever she could. She cautiously slipped down the few steps towards the door to the front courtyard, testing each one with her foot for creaks before she leant her full weight upon it. When at last she reached the tiled floor, she breathed a sigh of infinite relief. _

_She was victorious. _

_She had but a few steps until she was free at last from the tyranny of her wretched oppressor—until she was free to live as a human, not as a slave, and to believe in the mercy of God once more. _

_A strong arm encircled her waist as tightly as a vice and turned her harshly. Calliliana cried out then in terror, for she was gazing into the demonic visage of he whom she feared more to see even than a spectral corpse imbued with new life._

_She was looking into the red-rimmed eyes of Marcus Agrippa._

_He was holding a torch aloft in one hand, while he grasped her struggling body firmly with the other. The heart of the poor girl seemed to melt within her as she gazed upon his eyes—coal-eyes lit with a vengeful fire that seemed to burn her doom upon her as she stared into their depths. His lips were white with rage, white as his sharp teeth which were bared at her in anger. A hissing noise, unlike any that she had ever heard from man, issued forth from his mouth as he glared at her in fury—a noise like to that of a poisonous serpent. With one glance at his livid face, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that her master knew what she had done._

_And that he would make her pay dearly for it. _

_"He will strike at me with his venom," Calliliana thought numbly, as he wrenched the cloak from her body, and revealed her shivered, thinly-clad form quivering in fear before him, "He will strike his poison into me, and I shall die."_

_"Did you honestly believe that I would not discover your plot to ruin me, whore?" he hissed, his voice low; deadly. _

_"He is getting ready to strike," thought Calliliana, as she covered herself with her arms. _

_"You are more foolish—more stupid—than I ever thought you to be. When I am finished with you, you will BEG ME FOR DEATH!" Agrippa was screaming so loudly now that minute specks of spittle flew out and landed on the girl's trembling face._

_And then he struck. Marcus threw the burning torch to the ground with one hand and grasped the wealth of Calliliana's golden hair with the other. He threw her clear across the room by her locks, feeling pleasure at the sound of her cries of pain as she struck the wall and fell to the ground. The general strode to where she lay, gasping and panting for breath against her agony, and kicked her full in the stomach. She curled into a tight ball, crying aloud in anguish, as he kicked her again and yet again, cognizant of the same gratification he felt when he had done the same to the woman's husband. Calliliana vomited a ruby jet of blood at his feet, and Agrippa laughed mockingly._

_"Have you had enough?" he asked harshly, as the girl attempted to pull herself to her feet. She nodded furiously, chafing the crystal tears from her marbeline face, leaving uneven streaks of ruby blood from her hands upon it. Agrippa growled low in his throat, reached out and secured his massive hand about her neck, and lifted her into the air by that sensitive appendage. _

_Calliliana gasped for breath and grasped at his strong hand, unable to speak and beg him to release her. Agrippa continued to lift her until she was on a level with his eyes…then he spit full in her face. The woman choked and squirmed spasmodically is his grasp as the hot saliva burned its putridity into her open, glassy emerald eyes. _

_"If you have already had enough, I would pity you for what you shall endure next…I would, at least, if I could feel pity in my heart for a wretch such as you." So saying, the wicked man threw the pathetic girl to the ground again, forced her legs apart, and knelt between them. _

_"Please," she gasped, as she tried to cover herself with her bloody hands, "please…spare me!" Agrippa laughed once more, his body aroused by the sight of her pain and distress. He loosened the belt about his waist, and removed it. Calliliana shut her eyes, begging God to make that which was to come rapid to endure, rapid and relatively painless…although she new that was asking for a miracle, a great, unheard-of miracle…_

_She felt his weight being lifted from her. _

_She heard _him_ crying out; heard the sound of his skin, his body, being struck. _

_She opened her eyes._

_Appius, gentle, strong Appius, had her master by his hair. He was striking him in the face with all of the force of his strong young body. Agrippa tried to fight back, but he was too old to match the strength of the younger man. He slumped to the ground in shocked agony when Appius deemed him finished, and Calliliana stifled a cry as she glimpsed the bloody flesh that had once been the stern face of her oppressor. His eyes were swollen shut, yet trickles of blood still fell from them onto his bruised cheeks. His lips, both of them, were swollen to twice their normal size—and when he opened his mouth to vomit forth the blood filling it, the maiden saw several teeth, white and winking against the dim light of the lantern, clatter softly to the floor. _

_Appius was breathing heavily, but his eyes had kindled with a strange glow most fearsome to behold. "Like a beast, ridden and worked nearly to death, is this man," Calliliana thought, as she torturously pulled herself into a sitting position. "Yet his eyes—his eyes are that of the animal when he turns on his master at the last—when he slays the oppressor even as he himself is dying of his oppression." _

"_Give me your cloak." It took Calliliana several seconds to gather her tormented wits and realizing that Appius was addressing her. _

"_But…" Without waiting for her compliance, the young man snatched it and began tearing the fabric into strips. He twisted them firmly, then savagely bound the wrists and ankles of his master. Agrippa cried out in pain as the tightly wound cloth sank into his flesh, but Appius would not slack from his work until it was finished. He stood then, covered in the blood of the soldier, and looked down into his now unrecognizable face._

"_Touch one hair on this woman's head, or the head of the slave girl Lavina but once more, and I will not be so merciful as to spare your life. I swear to you that on that day, on the day that you make either of these women shed a single tear for your brutality and heartlessness, I shall slay you as slowly as the torment you have made them both endure." So saying, the young man wrapped his arm about Calliliana's waist and helped her to stand. A sharp cry of pain burst unheeded from her lips as she stood, her wounds shooting their dagger-like claws throughout her body. "Can you walk?" her friend asked her gently. She nodded._

"_I—I have to. We have to go…we have to leave this place…" The woman slowly made her way towards the door, the last perilous few steps of her journey which had been so tragically interrupted but moments before. Appius, tried sorely by her tortured progress, finally gathered her in his arms and fled the villa with her, his sandaled feet slapping loudly against the courtyard bricks._

_Neither of them looked back._

_Neither of them heard Agrippa's cries for help._

_Neither of them saw four other slave men rushing to free their master from his hastily-made bonds._

_Neither of them saw the slaves rush to the stables to ready five horses—one for each of them, and the largest of them all for their master._

_Neither of them saw, or would have known even if they could, that these horses were bred specifically for their speed and agility in pursuing prey during a hunt_

_And neither of them knew that those hunting steeds were now being readied to hunt a unique kind of prey. _

_A prey known as a fugitive slave. _


	33. Chapter 33

**Hello everyone! Sorry this has been taking me so long…I'm almost done with the book as a whole, and I wanted to wait a while. Hope you enjoy.**

**P.S. Merry Christmas!**

_The constant jarring of their fevered flight had taken its toll upon Calliliana's wounded body. _

_"Appius," she gasped, as she felt her bruised ribs grate against his heaving chest, "Appius we must stop, I beg of you!" With a sigh of resignation, the young man placed his burden gently upon the ground. The two had covered a fair amount of ground since their flight, he reasoned. They had left behind the villa and its inhabitants quite some time before, and were now fleeing along the coast, serenaded in their escape by the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. It was the earnest desire of the young man that he could place his charge safely upon one of the boats moored near the water, then return in stealth to the villa and abduct Lavina as well. _

_Calliliana cried out in pain as she hit the ground; as soft as was the sand that quickly molded to her shape, she felt all of her injuries seem to settle as one. She was felt as if she were one large bruise; one large abrasion, and the pain was dizzying. "Where…where are we to go?" she gasped, as soon as she had the breath to do so. Appius crossed his arms and looked defiantly out over the sea, like some great king of old, sure of his victory and mindless of possible defeat. _

_"To my home, Calliliana—to Gaul." The maiden's eyes widened in surprise. _

_"But Gaul is so far away…"_

_"Not on a boat such as these it is not. I will hire myself to the captain, and you shall be my sister…"_

_"But what of Lavina? Surely you cannot think of leaving her to the mercy of Agrippa…?" Appius looked down at the woman in surprise, shock and disgust coloring his flushed cheeks an even deeper shade of bronze._

_"That goes without saying, Calliliana. Are your eyes truly so blinded that you do not see? I love her as if she were my own flesh and blood—I intend to make her my wife as soon as we shall reach Gaul." In answer to the questioning look that pervaded the troubled eyes of the girl, he added, "once you are safely aboard a vessel, I shall return and take Lavina even as I took you." Calliliana was thoughtful then, as she mulled over the plans of her friend. _

_"Have you not thought," she began slowly, timidly, as if afraid to arouse the temper of the excited young man, "that our master may very well have surrounded himself with an army by the time of your return, and that it may very well be impossible for you to escape once more…" Appius squatted down beside her so quickly that the sand flew up into the maiden's face. A dark light had kindled in his eyes, and with his visage lighted solely by the small, winking night-lanterns of a few scattered stars, he appeared very fearsome to her._

_"I will do whatever I must to save Lavina and to free us all from the tyranny of that beast. I will do whatever I must...even if I must kill to do it!" Seeing the fire alight within his eyes, noting the hardened lines of his tensed body, Calliliana knew without the shadow of a doubt that Appius would slaughter if he was required to do so—and in that action he would rejoice._

_Such knowledge inspired her with a dreadful terror—for in his eyes and in his face, in his words and in his voice, she knew the bloodlust of her master._

_Her heart pounded furiously as he stood once more and gazed towards the moored vessels; her very heart trembled and she knew not why. They were safe, were they not? Appius had indeed seen to it that Agrippa would never harm her again…_

_"Why am I so frightened?" she murmured incredulously—she could not understand why her heart was beating so strenuously. The force of her fear was great enough to cause her whole body to quiver, so great she could feel the energy passing through her into the ground…_

_Appius felt it as well. He looked down at the woman quizzically, then his gaze darted off into the ebony distance. He squinted his eyes against the darkness, made himself one with the sensations reverberating from the ground into his legs. The diamond light of the scattered stars did little to dispel the onyxian shrouds of the night, but Appius felt sure that something—someone—was coming closer towards them at an alarming rate._

_Shadows in the distance; poundings growing in intensity every moment that passed. Calliliana stood painfully, gasping for breath, and strained her eyes into the night as well. _

_And she it was who saw them first. _

_And she knew in that moment that the horrific beatings of the earth were not caused by the terrified palpitations of her tortured heart…for it had stopped. _

_Five dark shadows emerged from the blackness, shadows that had voices, whip-cracks, and names. Both slaves stood dumb-struck upon the sand, their bodies unable to comply with the reasonable voice in their mind which screamed "Flee!" _

_Appius was the first to react. Wordlessly he threw the woman over his shoulder, eliciting a sharp shriek of pain as her wounds shot through her body like liquid flame, and began to fly along the shore. The damp sand encumbered his feet like fetters on a prisoner, and he struggled violently to increase the speed of his flight. For one brief moment, Appius seemed to feel as if he was outdistancing his pursuers; as if he would at last reach the freedom he so craved._

_But, alas, the moment was very brief. _

_The two were surrounded by the mounted shadows, surrounded and cut down like some gruesome harvest of humanity. One slave leaped from his steed and tackled Appius forcefully, causing him to fall with a choked cry of pain and rage. For one horrid moment, Calliliana felt herself flying through the air as she was dislodged from her comrade's shoulder…but the landing from her flight was worse by far; it jarred every bone in her body into an inferno of agony. She felt someone seize her arms, half-lift her from the flying sand, and hold her thus. Rough hands tore through her hair, wrenched her head back, and directed her eyes to the others…_

_They were killing him. It was plain to Calliliana at a glance that Appius would not survive the night at the hands of his tormentors. He fought as valiantly as he could, but he was one man, one man against many. They cut him down and back with their fists, they laughed at his pain and at his blood upon the sand. Even after he had ceased fighting, even after the shell of his strong young body lay upon the turf, lifeless and broken, still the minions would not cease their torment. Through it all, over the laughter and the shouts and the heavy breathing, one sound rent the night like a knife in the dark. _

_It pierced the sky like the cry of a terrified infant._

_It made one shiver like the sound of a slaughtered beast._

_It was continuous and horrible; it made the skin to crawl of whoever was unfortunate enough to hear it. _

_It felt as deep, as wide, and as brutal in its intensity as the agony which filled the heart of Calliliana when she gazed upon the empty cross of her husband._

_It was then the woman knew the sound came from her own throat._

_Her captors released her, and she fell heavily to the ground. Crawling against her pain on hands and knees, she slowly crept to the side of her slain friend. "Appius," she moaned, her hands reaching out to caress the fearsomely set lines of his cold face, "Oh, Appius! Must God take all that which is dear to me?" It was at that moment she heard a laugh. It thundered through her senses like the very voice of the devil—for who else would laugh in the presence of death? Slowly, Calliliana lifted her head and saw him._

_Marcus Agrippa sat tall and proud, despite his disfigured appearance, on a fifth massive stallion. His ebony eyes were cold and winking in the starlight, "colder than the ice which must be his heart," thought the girl numbly. He watched her as a cat might watch a wretched mouse upon which he means to prey—such was the look of cold calculation and greed upon his face. Slowly, tremblingly, Calliliana rose to her feet and advanced upon him, one foot slowly before the other._

_"How could you?" she breathed. The slaves stood back, awed by her courage. "You have taken everything from me…everything! You have not left one shred of human decency to cover the tarnished ruin that is my life and my name. You promised me the life of my husband if I would but stoop to become a common whore for you—and yet, though I gave you my soul, you took him from me." The other slaves looked about uneasily; they had known their master was cruel…but what this strange, beautiful creature spoke of was indeed a new level of evil. _

_The woman continued, advancing on Agrippa slowly but with a surety that was unsettling even to him. "You took the life of my child, my son whom I adored and who was the only living remembrance I had of my beloved husband. You slew my dear friend, you took me from the house of those who cared for me as a sister…you betrayed and annihilated any scrap of trust I could have had in humanity." Calliliana was standing at the neck of her master's horse now, so close that she could look up into his glittering eyes. "And as if _that_ were not enough," she hissed, her emerald eyes growing into a tempestuous sea of rage as they narrowed at him, "you beat me until your own wretched son emerged from my womb far too early to bear life. You could not be content with destroying my life alone; you also had to slay the flesh of your own loins!" Agrippa reared back on his horse in rage and lifted his hand to strike her. With a strength she did not know she possessed, Calliliana caught his upraised hand as it swung toward her face and smacked it away. "I have not finished!" she roared, a tigress in her fury and a nymph in her beauty, as all of her fear of the man suddenly evaporated into a cold mist that left beads of sweat standing out on the skin all over her body. "You will live to see the day of vengeance, Marcus Agrippa, yet not vengeance such as I will give. I have faith that as God in heaven is my witness, HE will avenge the blood that has been spilled about me! HE will avenge my husband and my son! And HE will show the emperor, your precious Rome, and all the world what you are: a thieving, usurping, godless, spineless BASTARD!"_

_A roar of rage filled Calliliana's ears, a roar louder than that of the ocean which tossed about at her feet. Something heavy and unbearably hard hit her in the face, and she knew no more._

_The stench it was that awoke her—so heavy, so fetid, and so strong it assaulted her senses like a blow. Calliliana stirred and blinked slowly, wondering where in the world she was; what in the world was causing that horrible smell. Like the scent of scores of unwashed bodies, yet worse it was—for it seemed also to carry the scent of death. _

_She was lying upon a hard surface; a stone floor it felt to be, and the woman sensed to her horror and dismay that some sort of a cold slime had seeped from it through the thin material of her stola and onto her skin. Calliliana attempted to raise herself into a sitting position—and was astounded to find her arms suspended above her head in irons. Truly terrified now, she cast her eyes about her wildly, hoping to discern some familiar face about her. No recognizable countenance did she behold, but there were others…other such visages so worked over and destroyed by pain and suffering it near broke what shattered remains left of her heart as she gazed upon them. _

_A grey-bearded ancient huddled against one corner of the cell—for prison-cell it was, the maiden now saw—and every now and again, a low moan sounded forth from his cracked, dry old lips. Close to him reclined an aged woman, the storm-clouds of her ancient eyes awash with a rain of fresh tears. A young woman, scarcely older than Calliliana herself, stood leaning against the putrid stone wall, a gurgling infant cuddled close to her breast. The girl raised her eyes and gazed at Calliliana; a look of resignation and blank disinterest. She had once been fair and lovely, perhaps, but dread and motherhood had ruthlessly ravaged the flower of her youth. The ebony eyes that stared out at the newcomer were hollow; lifeless. Finally, a tall, dark young man, perhaps in his twenty-fifth year, paced restlessly about the small stone cell. His footsteps were quick, livid, and sure, and the young Greek woman felt certain that he would happily spring at whoever was their captor if he was only given a moment's chance._

"_What is this place?" a thin, quiet child's-voice murmured into the stillness. For a moment, Calliliana looked about her. She had not recalled seeing another child in the room…_

…_It was then that she realized that it had been she who had spoken. So fraught with fear and weariness was her voice, she herself had not even recognized it. The dark young man strode to her side and peered intently at her face through the gloom._

"_One so lovely as you has never before seen the inside of a dungeon, I would wager." The man gazed at her again, his ebony-eyed head tilted curiously to one side. "You are not Roman, that is certain…you cannot be with that yellow hair and those green eyes." _

"_My father was Roman-born; my mother a woman of Greece. I am only half-Roman." He paused, and confusion replaced the inquisitiveness in his eyes. _

"_Do I…do I know you…?" Calliliana shook her head, confused._

"_I…I think not…I am Calliliana, the wife of the late Leander Maximinus." The man started back with a choked cry of helpless rage. _

"_Oh merciful heaven, I should find you _here_!" Calliliana trembled at the terror in his voice. _

"_Good sir, what can you mean? I do not believe that I know you…" The man slammed his fist against a stone wall furiously enough to draw blood. _

"_Ah, but your name is not unknown to me, wife of Maximinus. Although I am sure that you do not remember me—why should you, a lady as fine as yourself?—I met you while you resided with Antonius and his sister, Sylvia. In that beggar's garb you wear, I barely knew you!" The woman's breath caught in her throat as recognition dawned as the morn over her night-cloaked senses._

"_Are you not the man who fed and watered the horses of Milord Antonius? F-Fidel, I believe?" The man nodded._

"_Yes, Domina." Fidel stopped pacing, sat down upon the dank floor, and covered his face with his hands. "How can it be that you are here, with us in this place?" Calliliana struggled against her bonds and gazed at him, perplexed. _

"_Why do you keep asking that of me?" The young man raised his eyes to meet hers. They were empty and somehow had seemed to lose their rich color in a matter of moments._

"_You do not understand, I see. After you left—to thwart the charitable intentions of my mistress, I believe—the whole house was in an uproar. Domina Sylvia sent out each and every servant in her keeping to search for you and bring you back to the villa…but never were you found. She sent messages, all of which received no answer, abroad to Milord Antonius, who was suddenly sent on a campaign far from home…" Calliliana's mind was racked with horrible confusion._

"_I did not leave the villa, Fidel, I was taken." The worry-lined mouth of the young man dropped in shock._

"_Taken?"_

"_I was given a drink on my last night in the household of my benefactors. Thinking that it was, as I was told, a sleeping draught prepared by Sylvia, I took it and fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, I had been removed from the household of your master and taken to…" she shuddered, remembering, "the villa of Marcus Agrippa." Fidel did not seem to comprehend the maiden's tale._

"_Agrippa? The centurion? Why ever were you taken there…?" Calliliana sighed sadly._

"_The tale is far too long to recite now. He had…some hold over me, that is all that I shall say at present." The man stood again, his hands clutched convulsively behind his back._

"_I searched for you, as did we all, for many nights and days. At last, my food source had been utterly exhausted and I knew I had either to pilfer some victuals or perish." A deep scowl etched itself upon his dark features. "I took my chances. I was so very famished, I attempted to steal the meal of a Roman guard right out from under him. I was given new accommodations as a reward for this offense," here Fidel bowed dramatically and swept his hands about the room, "and am condemned to wait here without trial, without hope, and with no way of sending word to my master and my mistress of my whereabouts." A light filled his eyes, yet not a light of peace and merit, but one that gleamed as brightly and as coldly as stolen gold. "And curse it! Now that I have found you, my reward would indeed be great…if only I could somehow let my mistress know that you are here." Calliliana looked at him, attempting to hide her distaste for the man._

"_I do not understand part of your tale. You say that Sylvia believed I left her voluntarily…that I wished to 'thwart her charitable intentions'?" Fidel nodded._

"_She found a letter the morning after you disappeared, stating that you had accepted far too many kindnesses from her and that you could not bear to burden them any longer." _

"_A letter?" Confusion pervaded her very being, an uncertainty of cold dread and despair. "I never wrote such a letter." The young man looked at her, almost tauntingly it seemed._

"_Then who did? Not I, nor any of the servants, can so much as write our own names!"_

"_Surely there must have been one of you…" Fidel stopped suddenly, as a mist of bewilderment passed suddenly from his face._

"_The Arabian woman, that Mara, knew how to write. She had little love for you, Greek; all of us could see that…" Calliliana slumped weakly against her bonds. Mara…of course, of course it had been Mara! It had all, always been Mara…Mara which signifies "bitter", for indeed the golden young woman could taste the bitter gall of desolation in her mouth. _

"_Let us…let us not talk of such painful things," she managed finally, as she attempted to raise herself into a sitting position against the slippery wall. "Tell me, if you know, why I am suddenly cast into this place?" Fidel laughed a mirthless, joyless laugh then, loud and long, the laugh of one who has despaired of life, of reason, and of hope._

"_You, my fine lady, are nestled close within the bosom of the Coliseum. This chamber is the threshold to the Otherworld, and we are the pawns who tomorrow must play the game of Death."_


	34. Chapter 34

The villa had been empty.

Vitus had hastened to the once much-lauded home of the late young Leander Maximinus, there to seek the young widow of the man and her bastard child. He had found it cold and empty, but a shell of what it had once been. The beautiful mosaic-encrusted walls had been defaced with hideous graffiti of a most vulgar sort, and the fountains had been stopped up with debris. The goods of the house, including the jewels given by the wretched young Christian to his wife, had long since been taken by gleeful vandals and vagabonds. The silken threads of small, eight-legged monsters ebbed and throbbed in a cold wind which blew choking dust through the rooms of the house. A chill of despair had settled its cold talons into the marrow of Vitus' bones as he beheld that place—once so beautiful and full of love and light—brought so low into such darkness.

Of one thing he was certain—Calliliana Maximinus would never set foot in such a place again.

Vitus left the villa wearily, his heart and his resolve sorely tested and nearly at an end. He knew not the path that his feet took; he saw not the crowds and the curious passers-by who stopped to gape at his cloaked face. He knew only that he had failed in that which he had been commissioned to do, and he saw only the tormented face of the beautiful young widow in his mind.

"Mind your way!" A sharp command roused the attention of the embittered individual, and he looked out from under his shroud-like covering. A small middle-aged man, with a greasy, balding head and a mouth full of rotting teeth, stood looking up at him defiantly and without fear. "You nearly ran me off my feet, you great lumbering idiot!" Vitus' mouth opened into an unseen snarl of rage beneath his covering, and he stepped forward menacingly.

"If I disturbed you, I do indeed ask your pardon. I would request you, however, to be more polite in your reproofs…unless you wish a sharper retort from me." He slammed one hard fist into his opposite palm, and watched with satisfaction as the man backed away slightly.

"I meant no offense, Stranger; I am merely wearied by the jostling of these crowds." Vitus looked up and saw that his meaningless footsteps had taken him to the base of the Coliseum itself.

"Who is racing today?" The man shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

"I know not and I care not. I'm only here to learn more information about the games tomorrow."

"And what makes these games of such interest to you?" The hard grey eyes of the man gleamed like cold iron.

"Christians, Milord. Tomorrow the Emperor means to make for us an example of those miserable creatures…and what an example they shall be!" Vitus directed his attention to the man, his curiosity piqued.

"What kind of games are these Christians to endure?" The little man laughed, his voice, too, was like iron—hard and cold and grating as one metal on another.

"Horrible things, I am told…horrible things nearly too nauseating for one to watch! I believe that the victims are to represent scenes from myths and from history, scenes depicting hero's deaths." Vitus narrowed his eyes at the greasy man, barely able to contain his revulsion towards him.

"And why should this interest you?" An ugly looked filled his eyes.

"I hate the Christians; the emperor has declared that they are attempting to overthrow the empire! Furthermore, it has been noised about that one of the women to be slain is exceptionally beautiful. All sort of speculation about this one is the talk of the Forum—Greek and as lily-fair as a statue, they say, with hair like ropes of fine gold and eyes as the sea. To watch such a one as that perish, if she truly be a Christian, will be more pleasurable to me than having her!" Vitus felt as if he could vomit at the man's hateful words…yet a wild hope filled his breast. Greek…as beautiful as a statue, with hair as fine as gold…this indeed described the woman for whom he had searched so long and so fruitlessly.

"Have you any idea of a way into the prison cells beneath the Coliseum?" The man gazed at Vitus as if he had lost his mind.

"I do not. What business have you there?"

But Vitus had already stridden away towards the entrance to the Coliseum, leaving his hateful informer bewildered and suspicious.

She was alone.

She was alone now as she had been when her mother, the only true friend and relative she had living, had taken her own life.

She was alone now as she had been when she had stood painfully exposed upon the slave-block of the Forum, feeling acutely the wandering gazes of the lascivious man-merchants appraising her beauties for their own pleasure.

She was alone now as she had been when her husband and son, when her friends and her family, had been ruthlessly ripped from her loving bosom.

She was alone now in her cell; her companions had been taken to another to await their fates the next day apart from the lovely newcomer.

And alone she was to wait for death.

Calliliana struggled fruitlessly against her bonds for some time until she grew too exhausted from the effort. She sagged listlessly back against the wall, cringing as she felt the putrid slime from the floor seep through her garment to her skin. The terror in her heart as to what spectacle would be made of her filled her whole body with an apprehension unlike anything she had ever known. The tormented young woman felt almost as if she could vomit, so anxious was she. Yet, she could not weep in her fear. The unshed tears pressed against her eyelids, burned her face and her throat in their eagerness to spring forth and journey down her face. Yet she could not weep.

The door to her cell creaked upon, serenading her with an ominous chorus of rusted hinges and warped iron. Calliliana did not raise her head—she did not wish to look upon the angel of her demise as he grinned evilly down upon her. She saw him in her mind, however…a tall figure, all robed in black, with no perceptible features—save a pair of icy eyes that would stare out at her from the black void which would be his visage.

"Are you Calliliana, wife of the late Leander Maximinus?" a voice inquired brusquely in the dark—a voice which sounded strained and hoarse, as if it concealed some sort of emotion. The young woman shivered at its sound, and knew that she must raise her head.

It—or he—was just as she had feared. The angel was tall and forbidding, his all-concealing cloak the color of a starless night. Calliliana trembled at sight of him with such strength that her fetters rattled furiously against the filthy stone walls. "I am she," she whispered, her voice barely loud enough to be heard even in the stillness of the cell. She moistened her lips deliberately and murmured more loudly, "Will you hasten to tell me what is to be done with me? The suspense, I think, is the worst part of my suffering. If I could but know what they shall do to me…perhaps, oh perhaps, I could better prepare myself for the end!"

"You think I have come to give you tidings of your death?" the strange figure sounded incredulous. Calliliana peered up at him in surprise, attempting vainly to discern his features beneath the covering of night upon him.

"Were you not sent by the warden to prepare me for the arena?" The man shook his head and unfurled a wrinkled scroll from beneath his cloak.

"I am not in the employ of the warden, or of any other man who has aught to do with your execution, Domina. I have come solely as the executor of your late husband." The stranger passed a hand over his brow. "And believe you me; I have sought you long and far. I have traveled through the most wretched cold and the most scorching heat, only to have met with naught at each bitter end. Why, even now the guards would have stopped me from coming to you, had I not been able to verify my citizenship of Rome and the legality of my profession with them." He sighed. "What bitter irony it is that I should find you at the last—alone in a cell, waiting your death, when all my fair tidings are to become meaningless for you!" Calliliana shifted slightly so as to see the unknown with more clarity.

"What tidings have you, Milord?"

"Your husband charged me with the execution of his will, should the time of his death come before yours. This parchment," here the black-robed visitor placed the scroll in Calliliana's lap, "declares you the sole heir to his fortune." The young woman laughed as she saw it, an almost maniacal laugh of hopeless disbelief.

"Ah, how cruel is life! I could have returned home as the honored widow of a great man, rather than as a masterless slave; as an urchin to be tossed once more into the seas of humanity." Her golden head drooped forlornly. "And now it is too late…too late, for I am to die today." As the words left her lips, a fierce shuddering assailed the girl. "Death…I had thought myself ready," she mused aloud, "but not ready, I am assured, of a death such as they will give to me." The stranger cleared his throat.

"Domina, I believe I must be going now. You have the will in your possession…you may do with it as you wish." He bowed slightly to her and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Calliliana cried out after him, as a revelation dawned clear through the cobwebbed fragments of her shattered mind. "You are an executor, are you not?"

"Indeed."

"You know the laws of Rome?"

"Of course." A smile of radiant joy lit the features of the woman with such a glowing beauty, an almost fearsome luminescence seemed to emit from her throughout the dimly lit dungeon.

"You came too late to save _me_, I fear." Her voice fell soft and low and a tear slowly traversed its lonely path down her face. "But what indeed am I? Why is my life more worthy to be saved than that of the next woman…or man?" The black-robed stranger shook his head in confusion.

"I know not of what you speak, Domina…"

"Hear me then." The girl raised herself against the wall enough that she could almost crouch to her knees. "I am sure that my tormentor, Marcus Agrippa, will have it declared in the arena that I am to be condemned to death as Christian." The executor nodded in confirmation. "While I do indeed follow the Way of Christ, that reason alone is not why I shall be put to death." The man looked puzzled.

"I understand not your meaning, Domina." Calliliana trembled in her fervor…would this strange, cloaked intruder believe her tale?

"I have evidence, Milord, evidence and proof that Marcus Agrippa means to slay the Emperor Commodus and usurp his throne!" The tall man took two leap-like steps forward and knelt in front of her.

"These are grave accusations, Domina, grave indeed. They bear the stamp of the most infamous death known to man…no one who commits treason is ever unpunished!" Calliliana nodded.

"Agrippa wishes to slay me before I can reveal what I know to the Emperor."

"Where is this evidence you speak of?" The blood drained entirely from the maiden's face; her emerald eyes stood out against her colorless skin as if they had been painted on.

"My cloak," she whispered, her voice choked by a sob, "They are still within the folds of my cloak!"

"Where is your cloak then?" The woman shook her head sadly, a small smile on her lips.

"Even now, life plays its cruel game against me. He…Marcus Agrippa, Milord…tore my cloak from me when he caught me attempting to escape." The robed stranger stood slowly, shaking his head as he went.

"Then I regret to inform you that I cannot help you at all, Domina. Without substantiation of some form…" Calliliana nodded.

"You have done more than enough, Milord. Your kindness to my husband," her lips trembled, "will not be forgotten." The man bowed and left the girl so suddenly, she wondered if she had simply dreamt that a dark angel had visited her before her demise.

The tatters of Calliliana's black cloak lay in a crumpled heap upon the floor, its ebony folds thundering over a mosaic depicting a sun-filled day. It was that odd bit of irony that first caught the attention of one passing through the room. The individual stooped to pick it up, wondering casually at the way it had fallen. The cloak was ravaged by rough hands, as if in search of condemning secrets that might lie within it. When none could be found, it was lifted and carried away to be disposed of.

Five small glass shards showered down around a small piece of parchment that fell from within its folds.


End file.
